


Dancing in This World Alone With You

by twinkofficial



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American High School AU, Angst, Depressed Harry, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, M/M, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Substance Abuse, You Have Been Warned, Zayn is a drug dealer, liam is crazy, louis is supposed to be what I would describe as mysteriously unattainable, niall is normal, okay um, trigger warning substance abuse, will be dark at some parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-28 20:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20431874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkofficial/pseuds/twinkofficial
Summary: “Hi, I’m Harry, and I’m an addict.”“Hi Harry.”Something about the energy in the old church basement made Harry feel incredibly awkward, he was almost tempted to storm out of the room. His eyes trailed to the very back of the room, where some religious posters he didn’t understand were hung. He blinked his eyes tightly together, hoping if he focused hard enough he could disappear, turning to nothing, leaving an empty seat in the circle of chairs where him and the other members of the NA meeting were gathered. Time seemed to move at an awfully slow pace as each member of the meeting introduced themselves, using the same cliche phrase which everyone had probably heard before, whether in real life or on TV. “I’m an addict”, Harry scoffed in his head.He had  his own philosophy on addiction, and it went like this; it didn’t exist. At least for him anyway. He had convinced himself long ago that this was just something he did for mere pleasure, and he could stop whenever he wanted. Obviously.OR: The one where Harry is struggling with addiction and Louis is the pretty new kid in town and Harry can't figure out what it is about him that actually makes him feel something for once.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time posting something I've written and I'm pretty nervous.
> 
> I think it's important I point out this was heavily based on in the beginning so there are going to be lots of parallels to the show, as certain scenes inspired me to write this. However, it has slightly taken a mind of its own. Somethings in this are also based on my own personal experience with addiction and stuff. It could definitely be triggering for some people so beware. If you're reading this I really hope you enjoy! I'm gonna try to update as frequently as possible if this goes over well.
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr at Twinkofficial!
> 
> Also, sorry if the formatting is weird, I'm trying to figure that out still.

Harry never liked the summertime. For one, it was too hot, the air felt sticky and the humidity made it hard to breathe. Second, it left too much free time at his disposal. Too many times did Harry find himself on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, eyes refusing to leave the digital clock on the radio. Maybe it wasn’t the actual time that messed with his head, but the way he spent it. 

Harry thinks it started when he was thirteen. Thirteen year old Harry laughed a lot, and spent a lot of time outside with the other boys in the neighborhood. At the time, he also loved to bike. He loved how going down the steep hills as fast as he could made him feel. The way it made his heart beat a little faster. He’s pretty sure that’s how he experienced his first adrenaline rush. He loved how all the other boys gasped and held their breath till he made it to the bottom in one piece. He always made it to the bottom in one piece.

Till one time he didn’t. He wasn’t sure how it happened. One day in mid-July, faster than he could blink, he was flung from his bike, down onto the street, pavement sending shocks through his body. His head felt foggy for a few seconds, eyelids drooping, before he could acknowledge his anxious friends peering over him. Worry was written all over their small faces. 

An hour later, his mom had dragged him to the hospital, concern taking over her body at the sight of her sons swollen arm. She had been smart to bring him in, the doctors told her, because something in Harry’s wrist was broken. He didn’t really understand which bones, or how it happened, but he did understand it wasn’t good, due to the white, hot, pain, which began to take over his body after the initial shock was over. 

When he got home, his mom had tucked him and stroked his head while tears streamed down his cheeks. Nothing seemed to distract from the pain. Before leaving the boys bedroom, she pulled out a small orange container from her purse. The bottle read “HARRY STYLES” in thick black letters, with some random word he didn’t recognize underneath. The doctor had given it to her on their way out the door.

“Take one of these, sweetie.” She popped the lid off the bottle and dumped the pills into her delicate hands, a sad smile displayed on her face. 

Harry was in too much pain to complain. She dropped a single pill into his hand, and kissed him on the forehead one last time. “That will make you feel better.” She said as she made her way out his bedroom door, closing it behind her.

And make him feel better it did. The pain in his wrist was gone after about 30 minutes, but something else even bigger had happened in Harry’s body. As soon as the pill had dissolved into his system, a serene feeling like no other took over his mind. A google search the next day would tell him it was called euphoria. Harry was floating on a soft cloud of bliss. He wouldn’t be able to feel a negative emotion if he tried. The boy prayed to God this feeling would never go away.

Just like all good things, it did the next morning as soon as he woke up. When his neighbor friends came over the next day to sign his cast, and inform him he fell off his bike the day before because of a fucking pebble, he cursed out loud. And if as soon as they left he reached to his nightstand to take another one of those pills, no one would know.

Summer came and went again, several times, and now Harry was 17.

The fan whirred in the corner like white noise, which he barely even noticed. There were beads of sweat dripping down his back. His breathing was heavy and lulled. His eyes were dry, and if you looked even harder his pupils were dilated. The front door slammed somewhere in the house, and Harry took it as his cue. Mother had left for work and he was finally alone. They didn’t talk much these days. Crawling forward on his knees, shaking quite a bit, he made his way to his bed frame. With timid hands, he lifted his mattress and found the almost empty bag of white pills.

It didn’t take long for him to dump two on his desk, and to crush them with an old school ID. It was kind of funny, kind of sad, how the picture of himself from a lifetime ago grinned up at him as he made even lines with the pills, now crushed into a powder. A five dollar bill poked out of his pocket, and he swiftly rolled it up between his shaking fingers. ‘

First line in his right nostril, the second in his left. It always had to be done that way for some reason. Eventually the lines were gone, and he slumped down, laying onto the floor. The familiar feeling of serenity took over his body and he closed his heavy eyes, humming some sad song he didn’t even know the name to. He’d been home for less than 24 hours, it had been officially the month of august for less than 12, and here he was. A funny thought crossed his mind, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. In hindsight, all of this was because of a fucking pebble. 

Harry never liked the summertime. 

. . .

Harry never planned on going to rehab. However, he also didn’t plan for his older sister to walk into his bedroom one day and find him unconscious, foam coming out of his mouth. 

It was the beginning of June, the sun beating down onto the earth indicating that summer was in full swing. Harry only had 2 weeks left of his junior year of high school. 

He had just gotten back from meeting his dealer, quietly swinging open the back door of his house, hoping to avoid the attention of his mom. He was praying she hadn’t yet noticed the 50 bucks he stole from her purse. After all, wasn’t it her fault she left it lying around on the kitchen table?

Tip-toeing around his house was practically something he had perfected by now, but to no avail, he was stopped only several feet away from his bedroom door by his mother.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” She eyed him cautiously. Just one look at her and you could see the exhaustion, heavy set into her bones. 

Harry immediately wondered if she knew he had skipped school again today. He had made sure that the calls that were sent home when your child was not in attendance were sent to his own cell phone instead of hers. Filling out the paperwork on contact information himself his freshman year when they were sent home was one of the better ideas he’s had. His mother was still none the wiser. 

“Headed to my room, gonna do some homework I think.” Harry trailed off, blatantly lying. He blinked at his mother, who just shook her head.

“I’m drug testing you again when I get home.” 

Harry didn’t say a word. Shoving past her into his room, he took a look around and sighed. Looks like he should send one of his sober friends a text (not that he had many) and ask if they could help him out. He knew he should be embarrassed at how sad and pathetic it all seemed. But he just didn’t care. Couldn’t care really, all the boy had cared about for a long time was finding more exciting ways to get high. 

School was ending and Harry wanted to celebrate the arrival of his least favorite season. The rather large vile of cocaine in his pocket was just itching to be dumped out on the table, and taken all at once. But Harry thought he knew better.

Coke was different than the high Harry was used to from his beloved pain killers, and all those other drugs that slowed him down. It made his pulse quicken, and his breathing accelerate. He felt like he was riding his bike down that hill again, just like he had all those years ago. The power of invincibility was granted to him when the drug hit his system, leaving him on top of the world.

The desk in the corner of his room was completely barren of anything, Harry hadn’t done his homework there in what was probably years. It took no time at all before he was doing line after line, heart thumping in his chest a little harder with every single one. 

That's it. That's all he remembers until next thing he knows he’s waking up in a hospital bed with his sister and mother wailing besides him, hunched over in the incredibly uncomfortable seating provided. The doctor later told him he most likely doesn’t remember much due to the oxygen being cut off from his brain for so long after passing out, causing memory loss. Typical of an overdose. 

He had been threatened with rehab before, but every time he had managed to charm his mother out of it, convincing her otherwise. So that’s why when the next day, when he woke up in the car in front of not his house, but an unfamiliar, cold looking building, his heart sank.

“Where the fuck are we?” Harry hissed at his mother, turning to look at her so fast he felt dizzy for a moment. 

“You’re not getting out of it this time Harry, we’ve all had enough of this! We just want you to get some help, please, just please don’t fight me on this.” The desperateness in her eyes and in her voice spoke volumes on how she felt in that moment. 

So that’s why, without another word, and a frown on his face, Harry slowly stepped out of the car. The desire to be helped was absolutely not something he ever felt, but he knew he wouldn’t win this battle. 

He spent the rest of June and all of July living every addicts worst nightmare. The first few weeks had been the worst, the withdrawals from his typical daily dosage of pills making him physically sick. Going cold turkey was dangerous, even he knew, but no one seemed to give a fuck when he was drenched in sweat, throwing up an empty stomach into the toilet.

Sure, he made friends, had even exchanged numbers with one or two other people close in his age. They even made plans to blow a few lines together as soon as they were out of this place. 

The end of July grew near, and Harry could practically taste the freedom on his tongue. And when the last day of the month came, and he saw his mom’s face again for the first time, he actually cried. Guilt took over his body when he realized he wasn’t crying because he missed his mom. No, he was crying because he knew what this meant. As soon as he got home, he was diving back in, head first. Not even for a second while he was here did he plan on staying clean. He wouldn’t tell his mom this, and even indulged her in the idea that the tears filling his eyes were all dedicated to her. She pulled him in for a hug, tighter than she had in years, and wiped the tears off his face. 

“I’m so proud of you,” She boasted. “I knew you could do this.”

“Yeah mom, me too.” Lying to her came easier than it should have.

… 

“Hi, I’m Harry, and I’m an addict.”

“Hi Harry.” 

Something about the energy in the old church basement made Harry feel incredibly awkward, he was almost tempted to storm out of the room. His eyes trailed to the very back of the room, where some religious posters he didn’t understand were hung. He blinked his eyes tightly together, hoping if he focused hard enough he could disappear, turning to nothing, leaving an empty seat in the circle of chairs where him and the other members of the NA meeting were gathered. 

Time seemed to move at an awfully slow pace as each member of the meeting introduced themselves, using the same cliche phrase which everyone had probably heard before, whether in real life or on TV. “I’m an addict”, Harry scoffed in his head. 

He had his own philosophy on addiction, and it went like this; it didn’t exist. At least for him anyway. He had convinced himself long ago that this was just something he did for mere pleasure, and he could stop whenever he wanted. _ Obviously. _

The pressure to stop was on though. Not because he wanted to, fuck, that was the last thing he wanted right now. Despite his own feelings on the topic, this was all part of the process. Rehab to get him to stop taking drugs, and narcotics anonymous to _ keep _him from taking drugs. Harry almost wanted to cry. Nothing about this felt anonymous. His hood was pulled over his head, attempting to hide his face from the sea of strangers in the room. 

After twenty more minutes of listening to all the harrowing stories of anyone who was brave enough to speak up, it was finally over. 

Harry found himself outside, hunched over the bike rack where his bike was locked up. It was embarrassing to say the least. His mother had taken away his car and his privilege to drive until he was clean, for at least a few months. When his mother first told him of this plan, he wanted to laugh in her face. As if he couldn’t find other ways to his dealer's apartment in the _ not _ so nice part of town. Once he had maneuvered his bike off the rack and into the street, it took him a moment to get comfortable. Biking wasn’t the same to Harry anymore. His body had grown, longer, lankier legs and a bigger torso, combined with the fact he had found other ways to feel that adrenaline kick it used to give him. 

The irony of the whole thing made Harry sigh. He had just gotten out of an NA meeting not even minutes ago and he was already trying to ignore the urge to swallow more pills. Fighting the feeling was a waste of energy honestly, and that was it. Without thinking, Harry’s legs knew exactly where to take him.

The sun had started to give in a while ago, the small wave of heat that engrossed the paved streets finally starting to calm down. It all left the sky a beautiful shade of pink, like water colors painted behind the tall buildings Harry passed. These streets were never busy, and Harry found himself riding down the middle, on the yellow lines, standing up straight on his pedals and pushing all the way till he arrived at his destination. 

“Zayn! it’s me Harry! open the fuck up.” Harry bangs on the door, muttering the last part of his sentence to himself. The mental vibrates under his knuckles until the door swings open slightly.

“Harry fucking Styles? I thought you fucking died man!”

After Zayn embraced Harry, and slowly pulled away while maintaining a grip on his shoulders, holding him at an arm's distance away, all Harry could seem to do was shrug. “Nope. Even worse, rehab.” 

Harry recounted on his time at the facility while taking a seat on the futon in Zayn’s living room. All the windows had been blocked off by sheets tacked to the walls and the whole place smelled faintly of weed. It was comforting in a way only people like Harry and Zayn could understand. 

Zayn was his long time drug dealer. In fact, Zayn was everyone’s drug dealers in this town. He had been selling to Harry for so long and somewhere on the way he shifted from “sketchy, albeit friendly drug dealer” to “one of the only people Harry considers a friend.” He graduated from the same high school Harry was at now, the year Harry came in as a freshman. 

“So, like, if you just had to go through all of that, why are you here now?” Zayn sounded hesitant as he gestured weakly around the room. “Maybe not the smartest idea?” He rolled up the sleeves on his old, 90’s looking sweater. It was August, and Zayn liked to keep the place freezing cold.

Harry kept his eyes trained on the golden chain hanging from Zayn’s neck. It glint in the light at certain angles. He ought to get himself one of those. 

“Don’t get soft on me pal.” Harry joked, I’m the same Harry from before you know.” 

Zayn sighed. “Okay then.”

He had a look in his eyes but before Harry could really figure out what it meant, Zayn had turned in the direction of another room, expecting him to follow. 

“I’ve got what you want and probably more,” Zayn motioned to the office like drawers that lined the walls. “You like the shit I hit you with last time?”

Right. Last time Harry was here, he had left with the coke he overdosed on his pocket. He left that detail out of his story on purpose, deciding Zayn didn’t need to feel guilty over something he caused himself.

“Erhm, yeah good stuff. I think I’m just looking for my usual shit though? Got any 30 milligram ones?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“Course.” Was all Zayn said as he tied up the little baggy filled with pills. “Hey I also got some new tabs in if you’re interested.” Zayn looked up, the expression in his eyes completely unreadable.

“Yeah, yeah give me like 2 tabs?” Harry shrugged. Acid was always fun if you took it at the right time. He had made the mistake of taking it at the _ wrong _ time on several occasions. Most notably would be during school, which he had attempted at least three times. Anything to try and make it more pleasant.

Zayn worked silently at finishing his clients request. They both made their way back into the living room once everything seemed safe in Harry’s pockets. A realization dawned on Harry in that moment. 

“Zayn man, I haven’t got any money right now but I promise I’ll get you your money.” 

Harry was looking at the ground but he felt the way Zayn rolled his eyes. Zayn should be mad, but he had done the same thing so many times. At least Zayn had the comfort of knowing Harry always paid him back eventually. 

“Just hit me back next time you see me, yeah?” Zayn shoved his hands in his pockets. 

Harry nodded with a smile and made his way out the door, but right before it closed behind him he was stopped by Zayn’s voice once more. 

“Oh, Harry? Party at Liam’s. Tonight.”

. . .

Liam Payne. Quarterback, a pretty good one too. He was in Harry’s grade, and if he was known for anything besides football, it was his parties. Harry had been going to them since his freshman year and he didn’t see any reason as to why that should change. Liam’s house was perfect in size, had an infinity pool that overlooked pretty much the whole city, and a single dad who was always out of town on business. 

However, tonight would be Harry’s first public appearance since he left school abruptly in June. The only person who really knew why Harry left was Niall. Harry’s life long best friend. It was a bit of an exaggeration now, as they had grown apart, but at one time in Harry’s life it had been true. Harry hadn’t even seen Niall yet after arriving home from rehab. The whole situation was embarrassing, and Harry couldn’t imagine the disappointment Niall must have felt when he showed up at Harry’s house wondering why he wasn’t at school again that day. His sister Gemma had pulled him inside, and whispered into Niall’s ear what had happened, like it was some awful dirty secret. Truthfully, it was only so their distraught mother in the next room wouldn’t hear the retelling of the days events. It still had the same effect on Niall as an awful secret would though. Him and Harry had their share of distance the past few years, and Niall always feared for his friend, but this was something he never considered. Harry’s habits nearly cost him his life, and Niall barely even noticed how close to rock bottom his friend was until he actually hit it. He just wished he could have done something to help. 

“Mom? I’m just gonna sleep at Niall’s tonight.” Asking permission would have been a waste of time. Harry barely listened to what she had to say anymore.

A glimmer of hope shined in her eyes. “That will be good for you I think,” She had always adored the boy, he had the squeaky clean boy next door imagine that mothers loved, and it broke her heart when he stopped coming around as often as he used to. It hurt her even more when she thought about how it all came down to her sons substance abuse. “Just text me when you get there?” She gave him a soft, forgiving smile. 

“Hey mom,” the words were out of his mouth before he could think, “I love you, okay?” 

He barely interacted with her these days. It didn’t mean he didn’t know how to read her emotions though. Harry knew exactly how badly his actions hurt her. Deep down, he wanted to feel the affection his mom used to give him as a kid, before he started giving her all these problems. Even if it was for a fleeting second.

She stood up from where she sat at her desk and embraced him in one of those hugs only mothers know how to give.

The moment was short and soon he was out the door. Truth be told, he wasn’t going to sleep at Niall’s. He was going to Liam’s. After deciding he would just walk instead of biking (way too embarrassing for his first appearance) he made his way into the street. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell his classmates when they inevitably ask where he’d been all summer. Sure Harry wasn’t a popular football player like Liam or a lovable, goofy friend to all like Niall, but people _ knew _ who he was. He was Harry Styles, the kid who knew how to have a good time. If anything, he was _ needed _ at this party. If he was gonna go to this party, he had to tell them something. 

The sun was completely absent from the sky now and the moon had taken its place. Harry kicked a pebble in the street and grazed his hands over his pockets. Yes the pills were still there, but something told him it wasn’t time to take them. As he desperately tried to distract himself and forget their presence, a big, silver pick up truck pulled up next to him. 

Niall’s truck. 

“Harry fucking Styles,” a familiar voice chimed. “Back from the dead so soon?”

When Harry’s eyes focused in the darkness of the street, he was met with Aiden, Niall’s friend, hanging out the passenger side window. He didn’t have time to reply before Aiden spoke up again; “You going to Liam’s?”

"Yeah, you?” Everyone was going to Liam’s.

“Get the fuck in then.” Aiden opened the trucks door from the inside before sliding into the middle seat. Niall still hadn’t said a word to him, but he knew if he wasn’t welcome in the truck he wouldn’t have pulled over in the first place. 

“So where the hell have you been all summer? You have missed the fucking craziest parties man, I mean absolutely _ no one _had heard from you! Some people really though you die-” Aiden’s interrogation was interrupted by a swift elbow to the ribs by Niall, who still hadn’t spoken until now.

“Shut up Aiden, I told you it was sensitive, erm, family shit.” Niall spoke through gritted teeth. 

Harry met his eyes in the car’s mirror. “Thank you” he wanted to say. Instead he just smiled. 

It was a little shocking, Harry thought, that Aiden didn’t know. When he came back, he assumed everyone would know. Not that Niall would tell anyone, but it’s not like he was the most discreet person when it came to all his bad habits. Harry quickly came to the conclusion that everyone in this town was just way to self absorbed to actually take the time to wonder where Harry had fucked off to all summer.

Aiden looked sorry before muttering, “Well, it’s good to have you back man. Liam’s is going to be sick.” He held up the plastic water bottle in his hands, miming a subtle cheers. Harry knew there was alcohol in it, if the smell of his breath was any indicator.

Eventually, they had arrived to Liam’s street, where Niall struggled to find somewhere to park. The whole street was lined with cars and teenagers ambling their way to Liam’s house, the one where music was blaring from the backyard. Niall parked the truck to the side of the street as best as he could before killing the engine. 

“Feel free to head in, I just need a second to get my head in the game here.” Niall’s voice sounded normal, but his knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel. 

“Suit yourself.” Aiden shrugged. He waited a second before he realized Harry wasn’t moving, so he clambered over him and out of the car.

There was an awkward moment of silence where Harry just sat, eyes focused on his hands in his lap. It seemed like it took forever before Niall figured out what he wanted to say.

“Harry I’m just… so fucking sorry.” 

Harry whipped his head up. Sorry? “Sorry?” He titled his face to the side. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I just wasn’t there for you and I’m so fucking sorry, like I know I should have been a better friend and all but I didn’t know it was so bad, honest to God.” Niall didn’t know what to do with his hands anymore, they had moved from their place on the steering wheel to flailing around aimlessly. The poor boy sounded out of breath.

Oh. So that’s why he looked so guilty. “Niall please this isn’t your fault. Don’t be sorry. You're makin’ me feel bad for _ you _ when _ I’m _ the one with all these hardships.” Harry wanted nothing more than to skip the awkward conversation and just have the lighthearted and easygoing Niall he knew back. He flashed a grin, both of his dimples sinking deep into his face so Niall would know he was just joking around.

“I’m sure it’s the last thing you wanted to hear right now but I just needed to get it off my chest, okay?” Niall used both hands to wipe down his face. “And I hate to nag but are you sure you should even be here?” He stared out the windshield in the direction of Liam’s house. 

Harry was certain a party filled with drugs and alcohol was the last place he should be. As if he’d ever say that out loud. “Niall really don’t worry about me, I’m sober now.” It was only half a lie. Yes technically in this very moment he was sober, hadn’t taken any pain killers since yesterday. Did he actually plan to stay sober? No. Niall just didn’t need to know that part. 

“Your mother would fuckin kill me right now dude. Let’s get the hell inside.” Niall sighed and opened his car door stepping out, leaving Harry alone in the car.

Harry thanked God that conversation hadn’t gone on any longer.

. . .

Its not that Harry felt out of place at this party, he just never really felt _ in _ place anywhere to begin with. He wasn’t a social outcast, he just didn’t typically roll with the big crowd. People just didn’t understand him well, and he was okay with that. If anything, they were all lucky they didn’t understand the way he felt all the time. 

He sat on the outdoor patio, on a plush couch under the houses massive balcony. There were other matching pieces of furniture to sit on in a circle around the lit up fire pit. Despite this, Harry was the only one sat here. Lost in his thoughts and completely sober, the fire warmed Harry’s skin. He didn’t know why he was sober. 

As if Zayn could hear his thoughts from wherever he was, he appeared in front of Harry, blocking his view of the fire. Bong in one hand, beer can in the other. He had changed from his sweater to a plain white tee-shirt, but his chain still hung low on his chest. “You got my money yet, Styles?” He drawled. 

A curl fell in Harry’s face. “Nah man I’m sorry, I promise I'll get it to ya.” His voice was monotone, as if he had said the same phrase a thousand times. Mostly because he had.

Zayn sunk into the open spot next to Harry. “Honestly don’t even worry about it. Consider it a welcome back from rehab gift.” He elbowed Harry, simultaneously handing him the bong he had. 

Harry’s eyes twinkled in the light of the fire. “Thanks, Zayn,” He said in both response to letting him off the hook and handing him the bong. It was freshly packed with weed. “You got a light?”

Zayn pulled one from his back pocket and handed it to Harry. With the bong in his lap he leaned forward, mouth engulfed in the rim of the thing. He sparked the lighter for several seconds before pulling the bowl out, releasing the smoke into his lungs. He held the smoke inside, his chest feeling hot, while handing both the lighter and the bong to Zayn. The other boy repeated him in the same laid back fashion. They did this back and forth for a while until someone finally decided to speak. It was Zayn. 

“You ever think what happened to you was like, a sign? A sign to stop?” His eyes were smaller than usual, the white parts had turned red. It was a shockingly personal question, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Don’t know if you’re the one who should be asking me that Zayn. Trying to lose a paying customer?” Harry quipped. All he could do was smile.

“I’m being like, serious dude. Wasn’t all of that supposed to ‘open your eyes’ or some shit?”

So that’s why Zayn had that look on his face earlier when they were in his apartment. It was concern in his eyes.

“You ever think there’s more to life than drugs?” Zayn continued. “Like, I’m probably the last person who should be saying this, but I know they ain’t the answer.”

Harry chose to ignore the second part of Zayn’s sentence. He heard that line all too much recently. “Honestly no, not really.” He laughed. He was high as fuck. “Drugs are the only thing that make me feel at peace with myself, ya know?” He was bouncing his knee repeatedly. He reached out his own hand to stop the bouncing. “Like, I know when you’re sober you’re supposed to feel all these _ things, _ and they are supposed to be _ good _ but I’ve just never felt those things like everyone else does I guess.” 

“Wow,” Zayn was also high as fuck. “I think I’m too high for this conversation man.” 

Harry didn’t mind. “Another time then.” He reached for the bong again. 

. . .

It was an hour later. Harry was still high and he was looking for Niall. He stumbled onto the balcony but there was no sign of the boy. There was however, what appeared to be a fight breaking out. The story was different, depending on who you ask, but according to Harry it went like this:  
There was a boy who was new to town, had only moved here a few weeks into the summer during Harry’s absence. No one knew why he moved, but people were self absorbed here so no one really cared to ask. He was sweet and friendly, so when he started attending the same cycling class as Sophia they became friends immediately. Sophia, Liam’s long time on again off again girlfriend. No one was really sure if him and Sophia were actually _ together _that night or not.

Sophia had invited him to the party that morning after an intense cycling class. It was a good opportunity to meet some new people before school started again she had told him. Hesitantly he had showed up and found Sophia immediately. They were squeezed in tight on one of the loveseats that sat upon Liam’s balcony, chit-chatting away. 

This was the first time Harry saw Louis. 

He seemed small where he sat, almost the same size as Sophia. His arms were all over the place as he seemed to tell an elaborate story, a flock of girls surrounding him. Not a single one of them wasn’t laughing. 

Across the balcony Liam was standing, arms folded over his chest. He breathed in deeply as he glared at the boy whose name he didn’t know. He was sat way too close to Sophia for Liam’s liking. He didn’t like the way he was making her laugh either. 

“Well are you gonna stare or are you gonna fucking do something about it?” A boy wearing a varsity jacket questioned. He was stood in between Liam and another boy in the same attire, throwing up over the railing of the balcony. 

Liam huffed again. “Obviously I’m gonna do something about it.” He threw his half full beer can to the ground. It rolled away slowly, leaking onto the ground. 

When Liam appeared in front of Louis, so close he was almost in between Louis legs, everyone grew silent. Everyone except for Louis, who just stared up at him, looking almost bored, and said, “Can I help you?”

This only made Liam more mad. Before he could say anything, Sophia butted in. “Louis, This is Liam!”

He perked up immediately. “Oh, this is the Liam you’ve been telling me about all this time? Nice to meet you Liam.” Louis smiled and held out his hand, asking for a handshake. 

Liam did not like the sound of that. “Sophia get up, let’s go inside.” Liam made sure to ignore Louis’ extended hand. 

He dropped his hand back into his lap and frowned. 

“Um, I’ll come inside in a few minutes? Louis was just telling us all a story and I want to hear the end that’s all.” Sophia looked almost scared, as if she knew what was about to happen. 

“Okay fine, you give me no choice. Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend.” Liam slurred, leaning down so he was now eye level with Louis. His eyes were slightly glassy, and his breath was strong. It was painfully obvious he was drunk. 

“Well someones an angry drunk.” Louis challenged him. If he was afraid of Liam that night no one would have had any idea. 

That really set something off in Liam. In a mere second, Liam had grabbed Louis by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. He stood broad and bulky. The height alone he had on Louis would be enough to scare most people, but apparently not him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him Sophia-” before he could finish his sentence Liam had punched him square in the jaw. 

Everyone gasped but no one seemed to move. No one except Sophia, who immediately jumped in front of her friend. “What the fuck is wrong with you Liam?” She screamed, hands pushing at his chest. Her eyes were brimming with tears. She was afraid. 

Liam seemed completely engulfed in rage now. Louis wasn’t wrong when he called him an angry drunk. With almost no force at all, he pushed Sophia aside where she fell into one of her girlfriends laps, actively crying now.

People were still staring, some even filming on their phones as they watched Liam make another advance at Louis. Before his hands met where he was aiming at Louis neck, the small boy managed to stutter out, “What the fuck? You can’t tell I’m fucking gay?” 

Oh. That was embarrassing. Liam was so drunk, that no, he didn’t even consider that. Louis was small and his actions were rather feminine. All these ladies around him seemed to love him, they ate up every second with him. Liam knew because he had been watching from across the balcony awhile before he approached. Not once did he see Louis make an advance at any of the girls, especially Sophia even though they were sitting so close. Most guys in this town would take advantage of those drunk girls attention in a heartbeat. So yeah maybe it was slightly obvious that Louis was gay. 

If Liam was mad before, he was fucking pissed now. His blood ran hotly through his veins as he thrashed his arms, grabbing for Louis’ shoulders, or any part of him. He was so embarrassed, didn’t think he’d ever live this down from his teammates, so he started to act. “You think I couldn’t tell you’re a fucking faggot? that’s why I told you to _ stay away from Sophia _.” He whispered the last part in Louis’ ear, his hand now clenched tight around Louis’ neck. 

He struggled to inhale for a few seconds, before spitting directly in Liam’s face. His brave exterior never faltered. 

With that, Liam threw Louis against the ground.

He wiped his face before picked up Sophia by her shirt. She just cried harder in retaliation. She tried to resist but Liam was already dragging her into the house, her legs gave out from underneath her. No one did anything to help Louis or Sophia that night. Everyone was also pretty sure Liam took the rest of his anger out on her once they disappeared inside. 

. . .

Harry spoke to Louis for the first time maybe twenty minutes after that. He had immediately given up on finding Niall after Liam had shoved right past him into the house with Sophia in tow. That just really killed Harry’s high. He had reconnected with Zayn again and they were standing in the driveway of the house. Zayn had offered Harry a ride home, and Harry was about to ask for maybe a place to sleep instead, before Zayn’s attention moved on to something else. Someone else. 

“That was like, really brave what you did back there honestly. Haven’t seen someone treat Liam Payne like that in, in forever. Kind of refreshing.” 

Harry followed Zayn’s gaze to where the boy was standing. 

Harry didn’t feel many things that often. So he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he felt his heartbeat a little faster when he saw him. He was stood in a simple, dark burgundy tee shirt. The sleeves were already short but they were rolled up once more around his bicep. His jeans were black, and tight around his legs. His legs were short, so short in fact the jeans were also rolled up a few times, revealing dainty ankles. The black vans he wore were scuffed up from wear. The boy brought his hand up to his neck, which was bruised with finger marks of where Liam’s hand had been earlier. “Thanks, that was like super fucking embarrassing.”

Harry thought he was blushing, but it was too dark outside to tell.

“Don’t stress it dude. Liam always picks fights when he’s drunk.” Zayn lit up a cigarette, and then offered one to the stranger. 

“Thanks man, I’m Louis by the way.” He accepted Zayn’s offer. His voice was light and airy. Soft in a way most boys aren’t. 

Harry’s heartbeat even faster.

“Zayn.” Was all zayn said. 

Soon there was a pair of eyes on him waiting patiently. Harry acknowledged how blue they were even in this light. “Oh. ’M Harry.” Was all he could bring himself to give. His stomach felt weird. 

“Hi Harry.” Louis offered a soft smile. “Do you guys go to the high school?” 

Zayn took another drag of his cigarette. “I graduated a few years ago, but Harry is going to be a senior… I think? Right Harry?”

“Uh yeah, that’s right senior year.” Harry felt a bead of sweat start to form at his hairline under Louis’ gaze, which just didn’t seem to leave his face. Was he going through withdrawals again?

They all stood in silence for a while after that. Zayn and Louis’ cigarettes disappeared. Zayn quietly excused himself after that. Harry was only brought back to reality once Zayn was out of sight. There goes his place to stay. The moon was full and stars littered the sky, twinkling softly. The only voices speaking were ones still inside the house, faintly overheard. Harry pondered his options for a moment, before he made eye contact once again with Louis, who was also just standing there, holding his jaw. It probably ached from where Liam had punched him. Harry wanted to offer him one of the pain pills in his pocket, but thought better of it. Louis was the first to speak.

“My parents aren’t gonna be happy when they see these bruises.” Louis sighed. It was clear he was trying to make conversation. 

Harry ignored what he said. “Do you… have plans?” He leaned up against the car behind him.

“What, like right now?” 

“Yeah, like right now.” Harry was starting to second guess himself. Had he been to forward? And why did this stranger make him feel so weird?

Louis pretended to check the time on a watch that wasn’t on his wrist. “I don’t believe I do. Have plans, that is.” 

“Wanna do something? Like, hangout?” Harry shrugged, feigning carelessness. 

“Well you could come over, if you wanted to. Everyone is probably asleep, so.” 

“Okay.” Harry shrugged again.

He pretended not to be startled when Louis grabbed his hand and locked their fingers together, pulling him down the street. He was steps ahead of Harry, who lagged behind trying to compose himself. He wasn’t really sure what he got himself into or why this boy trusted him so quickly. All he knew was the way their hands were linked made his stomach do these weird flips. 

“Tell me all about our school, I wanna know what to expect on the first day.” Louis yanked his arm so they were now walking side by side. 

Harry didn’t say anything when the boy never dropped his hand the entirety of the walk. He didn’t know why.

. . .

The walk from Liam’s hadn’t been long. In fact, Louis only lived a street over. This was the wealthier part of town. Harry didn’t live too far from it himself. His mother wasn’t rich by any means but they did well enough to own a nice home. Harry wished he appreciated it more often. 

Harry stood behind him as Louis unlocked his front door. He motioned for Harry to stay quiet with his index finger pushed against his lips. 

They both made their way into the dark house, Harry following Louis as he went up the stairs. Louis opened a door at the end of a long hallway, which he assumed was his bedroom. He stood and watched as Louis toed off his shoes. Harry went to mimic his actions but accidentally kicked what must have been Louis’ dresser in the process. All Louis did was look up and shush him with his index finger again, giggling this time. 

Harry tried to keep his mouth closed as the boy continued to undress himself in the dark, pushing his pants off and kicking them to the corner. He seemed extremely comfortable for having just met Harry barely an hour ago. 

Next to go was his shirt, which he pulled off with his arms crossing over his waist and pulling till it was over his head, effortlessly. All he had on now were his ankle socks and a pair of underwear. Harry just continued to stare. 

Louis sighed and plopped backwards onto his bed dramatically. Harry was still stood next to the dresser.

“I don’t bite Harry.” Louis laughed lightly again. He padded the stop beside him on the bed, while staring at the ceiling. 

Harry moved closer, trying to shake the awkwardness away. He sat down on the bed and mirrored Louis’ position, lying down on his back. He tapped his fingers against his own chest begging his heartbeat to slow down. It was beating so strong Harry was almost scared Louis would be able to hear it all the way over there. 

Louis turned onto his side to look at Harry. “So, Harry, what did you get up to this summer?”

Harry stayed on his back, but turned his head just enough so Louis was in his line of vision. The only light visible in the room was through the windows, street lights outside creating shadows on Louis’ face. Something about the way Louis lazily blinked up at him made Harry feel funny again. He felt way too relaxed for some reason. Too calm in this boys presence to lie. “I just got out of rehab like two days ago, so.” 

Louis sat up slightly so he could rest his chin in the palm of his hands. “Oh, for what?” He kept his eyes on Harry’s face. 

Harry enjoyed the small boys curiosity. Still shocked at his own forwardness in the first place, he continued. “Lot of things I guess.” Louis’ gaze became too much and he averted his eyes back to the ceiling. 

Louis was staring at the side of Harry’s face now, tapping his lips. “You don’t have to tell me now. I’m sure you’ll tell me eventually.” He sounded confident with his choice of words.

Harry wanted to ask why Louis was so sure of that. He wanted to ask Louis why he was so comfortable around him. Comfortable having him in his bed, undressing in front of him. In reality, they didn’t know each other _ at all. _Most people would not act like this. Harry just supposed Louis was not like most people. It was okay, because he wasn’t either. 

“ ‘M sure I will.” was all he could really figure out what to say. 

Louis hummed in response. A few moments of steady silence went by, the only sound was the two of them breathing out of beat with one another. Harry turned onto his side, completely facing Louis now. “I’ve got an idea.” 

“Let’s hear it.”

“D’ you wanna get high?”

“Am I supposed to say no because you literally just told me that you got out of rehab two days ago or…?” 

“You’re supposed to say whatever you want to say.”

“I want to say that I want to get high.” 

“Good.” Harry didn’t know many people who would have said no if he’s being honest.

Louis got up to get some ice for his jaw in the kitchen, Harry’s eyes hot on his back as he left the room. Harry seized this moment to get situated and emptied his pockets. He was searching for the acid, somewhere in his pocket when he pulled out the little bag of oxy. Surveying the bag, a realization dawned on him. He hadn’t thought about taking them since he was at Liam’s. That had to be a new record. 

He quickly shoved them back in his pocket when he heard footsteps padding up the stairs. Those could wait till tomorrow, when he is all alone again.

Louis sat down with his legs crossed directly in front of Harry. He glanced down at Harry’s palm before looking back up at him. “LSD? I thought you meant like weed or something.” Regardless of his response, he picked up the tab with the tip of his pinky anyway. 

Something about the way he was so quick to accept made Harry smile. Louis’ attitude was infectious. Harry gave him a once over, he had almost forgotten Louis was practically naked. Practically naked and they were about to trip sack together. 

“Have you ever tripped before?” Harry leaned towards Louis slightly.

“No, have you?” Louis had picked up the sheets off the bed and wrapped them around his shoulders now, covering his naked chest.

“I just told you that I just got out of rehab and you think I’ve never done acid before?” 

That made Louis chuckle again. He examined the tiny slip on his pinky in the dull light coming in through the window. “Should I be worried?” 

Harry’s eyes hadn’t left Louis’ face since he came back into the room. The way the crisp white sheets were draped over him, loosely hanging off one shoulder now, felt oddly intimate. The streetlights from outside were highlighting his face. He looked ethereal. He had since forgotten the bag of ice and it was sitting in the bed, melting slightly, leaving the comforter damp. Harry felt more comfortable in Louis’ presence than he had with anyone else in what seemed like a lifetime. “ ’m not worried, are you worried?” The words left Harry’s mouth as almost a whisper.

“If you’re not worried, then I suppose I shouldn’t be worried, right?” Louis was now gently pinching the tab between his thumb and pinky. “I’ve _ always _wanted to do acid with someone I don’t know at all in the darkness of my bedroom.” 

Harry’s mother, like everyone else’s, had always taught him the rules of ‘stranger danger’. He was pretty certain this violated each and every single one of those rules. Yet, Harry raised the tab and put it on his tongue anyway. “Stay calm, and you should be fine.” Was all he offered to Louis. 

. . .

It’s three in the morning and Harry and Louis are both tucked away under the sheets, holding it over both of their heads as if they were trying to make a fort. A phone flashlight shined in between them, lighting up everything they could see, which was mostly just each other.

“You have really curly hair,” Louis was leaning forward, one of Harry’s curls caught between his fingertips. He tugged at it slightly and giggled when Harry winced at the sensation. 

“You just keep saying that!” Harry batted his hand away. 

It hadn’t taken long for the drug to kick in, and for Harry’s mind to become flooded with realizations. 

The butterflies he had been feeling in his stomach since the moment he met Louis could only be blamed on one thing; his beauty. 

Harry’s senses felt like they had been heightened ten fold, and that could be why everything about the boy in front of him just felt so _ intense. _ Since the moment the trip started, he had been hyper fixating on all of his features. The blueness of his eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed before, but here, in the harsh light of the flashlight, they continuously stole the breath from Harry’s lungs. His pupils were extremely dilated, but the blue rim still visible around them was something Harry felt incomparable to any shade shade of blue he’d seen before whether it be the clear sky or the cleanest water in the ocean. Louis’ hair was sticking in every direction because of the static rubbing off the sheets. It looked soft and wispy and every time a few strands fell in front of his eyes, Harry would lean forward and brush it away. Harry hadn’t built up the courage yet, but he wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel the smoothness of Louis’ collarbones under his fingertips. He was still topless, and the way they dipped in when he leaned closer to play with Harry’s hair was absolutely fascinating. His skin itself appeared golden in this light, it was evident he spent hours bathing in the sun. Harry wished for a moment that everything visible to him under the sheets now was all that their was to reality. Just the two of them under clean sheets. If that had been the case Harry would have no problem accepting and even _ enjoying _ the beauty of the world.

“Harry, why are you crying?” Louis inched forward, their knees bumping together. 

He hadn’t realized he was. “I’m just so happy.” 

Louis watched the tears roll down his face for a moment before brushing them away.

It could have been the drugs talking, but Harry knew what that felt like. This was something more. He knew even once tomorrow morning arrived and this had worn off, Louis’ beauty would be here to stay. 

It wasn’t the first time in Harry’s life where he wished he could stay in a moment forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright here is chapter 2! It is significantly shorter than chapter 1 (about half the length) but I've made peace with it. I just wanted to get the next one up. Please check me out on tumblr where I'll be posting updates at Twinkofficial!

Harry hadn’t left his bed in eight days. These past eight days have mostly consisted of rolling around in his sheets wishing he had the energy to put them in the wash, reaching out from under the blankets to crank the air conditioner, and pressing the “play next episode” button on netflix. Occasionally, when he remembered, he would unlock his phone and reply to a text or two from his new friend, Louis. That was if he was lucky. They mostly talked about the night they spent tripping together, and the first day of school slowly sneaking up on them. 

He knew he was going through dopamine deficiency, a common side effect of LSD. He combated the symptoms with more oxycodone. 

His mother popped her head in once or twice a day, suggesting that he get up and maybe shower or eat something. When all he did was groan in response each time, her heart sank a little more. She brought him plates filled with cheese and crackers and fruit. They sat untouched on his nightstand till she would come back and collect them. For all she knew, this was just depression. She’d seen Harry like this before, and the doctors said that it would happen while he was adjusting to being clean. 

Harry hid his pills under his pillow just in case. 

He leaned forward, daring to peak out from beneath the comforter only for a second to hit play on the next episode of Friends. The room was freezing due to the AC running hours on end, but he was too high to care. 

He was so high that when his phone chimed from somewhere in the bed he wasn’t sure if he had made it up in his head or not. His limbs felt loose and sluggish as he blindly searched for the device. His back cracked as he attempted to sit up, struggling to support himself with one arm, the other still searching for his phone. 

The brightness of his phone screen felt blinding for a second, and Harry winced in annoyance, his eyes bleary. The only other light in his room was coming off the screen of his laptop, due to his blinds being shut the entirety of his time secluding himself. 

It was another text from Louis. He wanted to smile, but even the muscles in his face felt weak. 

He settled for unlocking the phone to read the message. 

_ You feeling okay? :-) _

If he had the energy, he would’ve at least chuckled out loud at the use of a smiley face with a nose. 

** _Why wouldnt i be?_ **

It took several minutes for his eyes to focus enough to see, and his fingers to become steady enough to type the message. He dropped the phone on his chest by accident several times before he clicked send. 

_ Not trying to point out the obvious here. Plus I’m bored and you’re shit at replying. _

Harry was pretty sure he knew what that meant. It’s not like he could even really be mad, after all _he_ was the one who willingly told Louis he had just gotten out of rehab after meeting only an hour before hand. The phone felt heavier in his hand every second he held it. 

** _I’m sorry_ **

That was all he could manage to type before dropping the phone for good and closing his eyes. He couldn’t seem to get enough sleep these days.

. . .

Time seemed to move at an unusual pace as Harry laid still in bed. He could’ve been there for only minutes, or it could have been hours by the time his door slammed open, waking him from his sleep. 

“It smells like a fucking dead body in here.” Niall stood in the doorway, face scrunched up, slightly repulsed at the scent that violated his nose as he entered the room. 

Harry didn’t even bother reacting at the abrupt entrance, his reaction time too slow to do anything about it. He laid still for a moment more, his brain trying to combat the grogginess that came from the mixture of depressants and sleep. 

“How did you even get in here?” Harry sat up slowly, the covers falling down from his chest to his lap. 

Niall ignored his question. “Jesus christ Harry it’s literally freezing in here,” Niall stormed over to the window above Harry’s bed, reaching over him to shut the AC off. “How long has this been running?” 

Shaking his head, willing this disorientation to go away, Harry groaned. “What day even is it?”

“It’s Monday,” Niall sighed. He’d seen Harry like this a few rare times, but even then he couldn’t help but feel slightly afraid of what the boy was doing to himself. He slowly took a seat next to Harry on the edge of the bed, his back facing him. “How are you feeling today?” He rubbed the back of his neck with the sleeve of his shirt tugged over his wrist. 

All these actions happened way too fast for Harry's liking, whose mind was moving ever so slow.

Harry blinked hard, trying to shake the confusion of this situation away. “Are you here to check up on me Niall? Because that kind of makes me feel like shit.” He grimaced, while nudging Niall’s lower back with his calf gently. 

“I mean yeah I am, but I also kinda thought we could hangout ya know? Like old times.” 

“Like old times.” Harry repeated. His head still felt foggy. 

“I didn’t mean to barge in but I was kind of worried, I texted you a few hours ago but you didn’t answer. Sorry for intruding on whatever it is you’re doing here…” Niall trailed off, his eyes focusing on where Harry’s laptop had been discarded at the end of the mattress, still playing an episode of Friends.

It took Harry a minute to process what he had said, but as soon as he did he made a frenzy of trying to find his cell phone in the mess of blankets spread across the bed. 

The screen showed several missed notifications from the past few hours, and it displayed the time, which read four o’clock in the afternoon. A few of the notifications were from Louis. Last time Harry had replied had been around twelve in the afternoon. So he’d been asleep for at least a few hours. 

He must have been staring at the screen for a long time, because his attention was only brought back to Niall when he piped up, “Anything good on there?” while motioning to Harry’s phone. 

He was trying so hard to be a good friend.

Harry just shrugged. This piqued Niall’s interest and he scooted closer to take a look at the screen himself. He read what he saw out loud. “Louis Tomlinson? Isn’t that the gay kid from Liam’s party last week?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Harry ran the back of his hand over his forehead. Even though the room was still freezing from the AC running all day, he felt sweat starting to collect between his brows. 

“Brave kid he is, Liam threw a fucking fit at that,” Niall chuckled. “You guys friends now?” 

Harry hated how his face had started to heat up as soon as Louis’ name was mentioned out loud. “I mean, I--I guess so. We hung out after Liam’s, so.” 

Before Niall could say anything else to make him sweat, Harry reached for his nightstand where his mother had left him a water bottle this morning. He unscrewed the cap and grasped the bottle tightly, the plastic crunching under his fingers. He gulped down the water until the bottle was empty and proceeded to chuck it at the floor, out of breath. “I feel like fucking shit.” 

Niall gave him a sorry look before patting his thighs and standing up. “Get up dude, I’m not letting you sit here any longer. You’ve missed out on practically the whole summer. Lets do something fun.” 

“What’s fun?” Harry said sarcastically, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, yet not enough to reveal his dimples. “And I’m gonna be honest Niall, I haven’t showered in maybe eight days or something.” He couldn’t bother to feel embarrassed. 

Horrified at what Harry had said, Niall made a disgusted face, which Harry knew was only semi serious. “Well why don’t you do that like, right the fuck now please. That’s why it smells putrid in here.” He pinched his nose between his fingers for dramatic effect. 

Harry’s mind started to race, and he sunk deeper into his mattress. The idea of leaving Niall alone in his room with his stash of drugs poorly hidden under his pillow making him uneasy. When the other boy turned around for a second, distracted by the old pictures of them when they were younger pinned to the wall over Harry’s desk, he took the opportunity to check under his pillow. Harry was pretty sure he was saying something but he had tuned it out if that were the case. When his hands were met with an empty plastic bag, his shoulders sank a little. So he didn’t remember taking the rest of the pills, but that isn't so surprising. It wasn’t the first time Harry had blacked out and taken way more than should’ve been humanly possible all in one sitting. Without the stress of knowing there was nothing for Niall to find in his room, he decided showering was in his best interest after all. 

As he tried to stand up, he realized this was a harder task than he had anticipated. His legs shook beneath him and his knees buckled a few times as he tried to gain his balance. In the span of the time he had spent rotting in his bed, he had maybe got up to use the bathroom all of two times, due to the lack of food and water he had been ingesting. This meant he'd practically forgotten how to walk. His vision went black as the blood rushed to his head, and he rested his hand on the frame of his bed to stop himself from falling over.

Slowly but surely, he made his way to the bathroom, leaving an oblivious Niall alone in his room. Slightly delirious, he turned on the shower and took a seat on the closed toilet lid as he waited for it to warm up. As soon as he sat, he felt his phone buzz against his leg in the pocket of his sweatpants. When he pulled it out and saw Louis’ name lighting up his screen again, his eyes grew wide. He wasn’t exactly sure why he felt guilty about leaving the boy on delivered for so long, but he knew he had to fix it, and quick. He started reading the messages from when he had fallen asleep.

_ It’s fine, I’ll get over it I’m sure. _

And then an hour later he had sent;

_ Wtf, are you just one of those weird people who never goes on their phone? _

And five minutes after that;

_ It’s 2019 Harry, get with the program. _

Twenty minutes after that;

_ Sophia said you’re a pretty nice kid despite the fact you’re so quiet. Starting to think she lied about the nice part…_

A minute after that;

_The quiet part? She hit the nail right on the head. _

And then just now, Louis had messaged him;

_ Alright I guess I’ll just go fuck myself then. _

Normally, Harry might find someone wanting to talk to him as bad as Louis seemed to slightly weird and maybe even obsessive. However all these messages did for Harry was make something bubble up in his chest. This is just what Louis' was like if he had learned anything about him already. Forward. Punctual. Straight to the point. His brain still felt too mushy to reply to each message, so he picked the one that interested him the most. 

** _so you asked sophia about me? interesting…_ **

He hit send, and continued to stare at the screen. The shower, now certainly warm enough, completely forgotten. It wasn’t less than a minute later when a new message popped up. 

_ Oh, so I see you’re the type that likes to keep a guy hanging. Good to know. _

** _i fell asleep_ **

_ Sleeping for several hours in the middle of the day? NGL Harry, that’s kind of sad. _

Harry read the message a few times over before typing out;

** _tell me about it._ **

… 

The next morning, Harry found himself outside of Zayn’s door for the second time since he’d been let out of rehab. He waited patiently until the door creaked open, revealing an exhausted looking Zayn. 

“Hey,” Zayn said half heartedly, his eyes slightly swollen from lack of sleep. “Come in.” He motioned weakly at Harry.

“Rough night?” Harry raised an eyebrow in question. He understood all too well. Falling asleep while not high was something he seldom did, yet he had tossed and turned all night due to his stash of pills being gone and not being used to the overwhelming flow of sober thoughts.

That's why he was here.

“You bet,” He still hadn’t made eye contact with Harry. “Anyways here you go.” He shoved the bag of pills he had already prepared for Harry before his arrival under his nose.

Harry tentatively reached out and wrapped his fingers around the bag, giving a silent nod as a thank you. He exchanged the pills for the wadded up money he carried in his sweatshirt pocket. He flashed Zayn a smile that took up half his face. “Look, I’ve even got money this time.” 

Zayn didn’t laugh. In fact, he barely even reacted at all, his eyes still trained on the floor between him and Harry.

There was a slight tension in the air which Harry wanted to dismiss. “Something wrong, dude?”

Zayn seemed to snap out of it and reached out to pluck the money from Harry’s fingers, not even bothering to count it before putting it in his pocket. “Got a lot on my mind to be honest man."

"Like?"

"Really been wondering what I’m doing with my life recently.” His shoulders were tense, posture tight.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder if that had to do with the conversation they’d had at Liam’s that night. He didn’t ask. Instead he offered, “If you ever wanna talk about it or something you’ve got my number. After all, you’re the only person I have on speed dial.” It was supposed to be lighthearted and funny.

Zayn looked at him with another one of his famous unreadable expressions. “Don’t you think it’s kind of sad the only person you have on speed dial is your drug dealer?” 

That took Harry back a bit. Zayn never seemed to hold back with his honesty these days. “I mean, I thought we were friends to be honest.” It sounded like a question the way his voice rose at the end. Harry wasn’t necessarily good at having friends, but he knew him and Zayn had crossed over the line of mere acquaintances long ago. Right? "You did _just_ tell me about your problems you know. Didn't think it'd hurt to try and help is all." He held up both hands defensively. 

“Okay, my bad, that wasn’t cool of me. I didn’t mean it like that.” Zayn made his way over to the futon that sat in the living room, sitting on his hands.

“It’s okay, I get it.” Harry shrugged, running his fingers through his tangled curls. He didn’t really get it, but the least he could do was pretend to understand. That’s what people usually did with him anyway. 

"We are friends Harry." Zayn was clearly feeling slightly guilty and very uncomfortable.

As one does when they are uncomfortable, he went to change the topic of conversation.

“So, that kid Louis from the party seemed pretty chill.” 

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Yeah, I uh, I think he is pretty chill.” He scratched his chin.

“Maybe we could all chill or something sometime.”

Harry had to laugh in his head at that idea. Sure, Louis was extremely outgoing and definitely seemed to have an easy time holding his own, but something about him still struck Harry as oddly innocent. Like ‘I go to cycling classes for fun’ kind of innocent. He couldn’t picture Louis the type to want to surround himself with people like Harry and Zayn. He seemed to take an odd liking to Harry, and they’d done acid the one time, but he was sure once Louis had actually found out just how fucked up he was he’d be running for the hills. And Zayn was a drug dealer for Christ’s sake. Not the type of person many people willingly choose to surround themselves with if they had the option. Louis was new here, and he had a down right fascinating personality. He certainly had all the options in the world.

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah, maybe we could.”

… 

** _zayn says you’re chill._ **

_ Sophia says Zayn is a big time drug dealer. Like biiiiig time. _

** _sounds like sophia says a lot of things. she wouldn’t be wrong tho._ **

_ I didn’t say Zayn wasn’t a nice guy. _

** _zayn is a great guy_ **

_ Good to know. _

Conversation with Louis flowed as easily as water down a stream, and Harry found himself reaching for his phone more often than he found himself reaching for the pills these days. That’s not to say he wasn’t taking them, because he still was, every night before he went to sleep. It’s just that with Niall constantly on his back forcing him out of the house, he didn’t have much time to get high. The sudden shift in mood (albeit forced) made everyone in Harry’s life ecstatic. 

Harry was laying down on the cushions of the grand bay windows in his living room, basking in the heat of the sun glaring through the glass. He had his phone clutched in one hand, and his eyes trained on the TV where he was absentmindedly watching Niall play video games. It was mid afternoon and Harry hadn’t felt this at peace in quite sometime. Harry found the silence in the room actually enjoyable rather than torturing like he usually would. 

Minutes later, the front door creaked open and in walked his mother and sister, each of their arms weighed down with shopping bags. 

“Well look at you two,” She placed the bags on the ground near the coat rack in the entryway. “This sight reminds me of when you boys were younger.” She grinned at them, a smile that actually met her eyes for once. 

Gemma entered the room to step in front of Niall, interrupting his game to wrap her arms around him. “It’s good to have you around again.” She smiled into his hair.

Harry observed the interactions from afar, but ultimately was pulled out of reality once again by the soft chiming of his phone. 

_ You gonna show me around school the first day? _

He pondered that for a moment.

** _if i even decide to go_ **

He knew what he said didn't actually hold much weight. If anything, he found himself almost excited to go back to school. He fucking hated summer. Plus, if he went, he’d be able to see Louis again. As much as he avoided thinking about it, the nagging feeling in his stomach was only getting stronger the past few days. All this texting had done him no good. However, he hadn’t seen Louis’ face since the morning after their acid trip, and he wanted to see if it was still just as beautiful as it was the night they met.

He was pretty certain it would be.

_ Oh you’ll be there if I have anything to say about it. _

_ . . . _

And so the last few weeks of August came and went, and Harry found himself standing in front of the large double doors leading into the high school in the first week of September. The air was always brisk this early in the morning at this time of year, and light gusts of cool air traveled through the hoard of teenagers surrounding the building. Niall was right beside him, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder. Harry had made sure to catch a ride with Niall that morning, refusing to be seen riding a goddamn bicycle to school. 

“Harry!” a light and airy voice called from somewhere near grabbing his attention. “Is that you?” It rang closer in his ears now, causing him to turn around. 

“I almost forgot what you looked like!” Louis pulled him into a warm embrace that made him shudder. Harry wanted to tell him it would be nearly impossible for him to forget his face, but he refrained.

“Hi Louis,” He chose instead. “This is Niall.” He removed one arm from Louis’ waist to gesture to Niall, but he seemingly forgot to drop the other, leaving Louis wound tightly up against his side. 

“Nice to meet you Louis,” Niall’s face turned upwards into a bright grin. “You’re practically famous around here already.” 

Louis stayed exactly where he was tucked into Harry’s side and face palmed himself gently. “Oof. I was really hoping that not too many people saw that interaction. Suppose I was wrong to expect that…” He trailed off, the tips of his cheekbones tinged slightly pink. 

Harry wanted to brush his fingers across them. 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure everyone saw it. Everyone I’ve talked to says you’re a badass though.” Niall reasoned. “You win some you lose some.”

“Indeed you do.” Louis peeled himself off of Harry’s side, leaving a cold phantom feeling in its place. 

“Well I’ve got to head off, I told Aiden I’d find him before first period starts. Are you going to be okay Harry?” Niall’s voice turned soft at the last part. Harry hadn’t said a word, but it was obvious he was nervous to be back after being ripped from school last year. He had fidgeted awkwardly the entire car ride here. 

“Go for it. I told Louis here I’d show him around anyway.” His smile was tight lipped but genuine. He was nervous, but he wasn’t so sure if it was due to being back in school or if it was the bright bubbly new boy who stood barely a foot away from him. If he had to, he'd guess the latter. 

Niall slung his bag higher up on his shoulder, adjusting his hair with his other hand. “Alrighty then, see you at lunch. And hey Louis, if Liam gives you any trouble today you let me know okay? I know lots of people here who would be more than willing to teach that kid a lesson.” He sent them both a pointed look before he waved and turned on his heel to walk into the school building.

It was just the two of them now. 

“Hey stranger,” Louis smiled sweetly up at him, standing pigeon toed. “Long time no see. Your friend is really nice.” 

Harry couldn’t help but flash his own smile, dimples and all, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Niall, yeah Niall is great. Always looking out for everyone.” 

Louis took the opportunity to stick his index finger deep in the indent of Harry’s cheek. “These things are like fucking craters,” he twisted his finger around, only making the dimples appear deeper. “You gonna show me the ropes?”

Harry wished he himself was brave enough to do that, to touch Louis' face and not be scared he'd run away. Louis was so close to him now, and Harry took the opportunity to examine his features for the first time since he'd last seen him. It had been a few weeks, and Louis' skin appeared to be an even darker shade of bronzed than before. He must've been the type to tan easy. He was wearing denim jeans, and once again they were cuffed at the bottom to reveal his naked ankles. A light grey sweater hung off his upper body, and Harry quite literally had to close his eyes and take a deep breath when he noticed Louis hands were almost completely hidden, only his fingers visible gripping the sleeves of the sweater. A red backpack hung off his back, and Harry could tell it was brand new just by looking at it. His hair was swept artfully to the side, looking effortless. Harry assumed it had taken at least 20 minutes this morning. 

He twisted the string of his sweatshirt between his fingertips. “Yes, but I will admit I’m probably the worst person you could’ve asked. Why isn’t Sophia showing you around?” It was a valid question, as apparently the two had grown very close over the summer, according to Louis’ texts. Especially after Liam’s party. Sophia had dumped him the next day, horrified at his treatment of her friend. 

“Because I wanted you to do it.” 

Harry could’ve asked why exactly it was him Louis wanted, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to get the words out if he tried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it here, thank you so much! leave me some comments and let me know what you think or even if you have anything in particular you want to see in this story. Also please let me know if you see and grammatical errors or typos so I can fix them! thank you for reading. Hoping to get chapter 3 up by monday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is folks. I'm so sorry for the wait. I got pretty sick of looking at it all week so it may not be edited to the best of its ability. As usual if you spot a typo let me know! I want to thank everyone for reading and even enjoying my story, seriously the feedback is blowing my mind! Please enjoy this chapter!

The first day of school went on achingly slow for Harry. The inside of the building was almost unbearably chilly, due to the school spending almost all of their yearly budget to make sure the AC was blasting in every classroom. Harry walked around all day with his hoodie pulled over his head, a few miscellaneous curls peaking out from underneath. He would find a seat in the back of each classroom, and every period he managed to tune out the sound of his teachers going over the syllabus for the semester. 

Second period Liam Payne was in his class and he couldn't help but glare at the back of his head the entire hour.

Last period had ended, and Harry found himself trudging through the hallways with his hood still over his head, looking for Niall. He was trying his hardest to not catch the attention of people he had no interest in talking to, when he saw a large lineup of the girls in his grade all squawking loudly about God knows what. In the middle of the group was Louis.

Harry tucked his chin closer to his chest at the sight of him.

The boys lips were curled up in a smile as he chatted with Sophia. Harry couldn't help but notice the way Louis' hands were wrapped loosely around her wrists, swaying them back and forth lightly between the two of them as they made conversation. Harry suddenly felt the need to pinch himself. So, Louis was hands on with _everyone_, not just him. He was in the middle of trying to push the thought out of his head when he felt Louis' eyes land on him.

If Louis was smiling before, he certainly was smiling now. His eyes crinkled when he dropped Sophia's wrists to wave at him, motioning Harry over with his hands. Harry stopped in his tracks, the attention from the other boy making his face feel red. When Harry forgot how to move, Louis took that as a cue to make his way over to Harry himself, Sophia trailing behind him. Harry only grew more tense.

"You look awfully chipper Harry." His smile faded the slightest bit. "How was your first day?"

Then, Harry's shoulders relaxed a bit. He liked how every time Louis spoke it made things less awkward. Like it just calmed him down. Except his stomach. His stomach felt more weird every time Louis spoke to him and he didn't like that very much. 

Harry hadn't seen Louis since this morning, after he had helped him find his way to first period. They didn't have a single class together, or even lunch. There paths didn't even cross during passing periods. Harry had always had shitty luck. 

"It was okay." Harry shrugged as casually as he could.

Louis knew he was lying.

His face softened and he reached out to tug on one of Harry's curls that was visible from under his hood. "I'm sorry it wasn't good," He didn't even try to play along with what Harry had said. "It'll get better." He looked Harry directly in the eyes.

And, wow. Even florescent school lighting did Louis justice. 

His hand dropped from Harry's hair back to his side. "Well, I have to pick up my sisters from school. I'll talk to you both later." 

Oh yeah. Sophia was still standing right there. Louis started to walk away, and Harry began to feel awkward again, but as soon as Louis was out of earshot, the girl began to speak.

"Hey Harry," she said softly. "It's really cool that you and Louis are friends. Ya know, a lot of guys wouldn't be so open to the idea, because, well, ya know."

She didn't have to say it out loud for Harry to understand what she meant. Louis was gay, he didn't exactly try to hide it, and guys weren't always a fan of that. Liam was a great example. 

"To be honest, that's not something I ever really think about I guess. He's just a person, the way I see it." Come to think of it, Harry hadn't really given it much thought at all. It hadn't even come up in one of the conversations he and Louis exchanged over text.

"Louis is like, amazing seriously. Me and all the other girls here want to make sure he feels safe in school, after what happened with Liam." Her face turned sour, as if she didn't like the way those words tasted on her tongue. 

Harry took a second to think, before smiling slightly. "You know Niall? I think he's got that one covered," He took another few seconds, really considering if it was his place, before asking, "By the way, I hope you're alright. Louis told me you dumped Liam after that night. Smart choice." 

He had exchanged a few words with Sophia in the past, but he had never really talked to her like this. He had always dismissed her as another one of those loud obnoxious girls who get way too drunk at parties. It was okay though, because she most likely just saw Harry as another one of those kids who ruined their own life way too early on by experimenting with all the wrong drugs. Stereotypes and all that.

"Yeah! I mean, it sucks, but I needed to do it for a long time. That night was the final straw. He's just not the most amazing guy but I'm sure you already knew that," She had a look on her face which made it obvious enough she wasn't in the mood to talk about Liam anymore. "I've got to get ready for practice, but it was really nice to talk to you Harry," She smiled. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

She sauntered back to her friends, and Harry stood still for another moment, readjusting his hood, before walking the other direction, continuing his search for Niall. 

. . .

Harry had been home for only about twenty minutes when his phone vibrated in the pocket of his hoodie. He was on the floor of his bedroom, rolling a pill between his fingers. Previously, Harry would never question taking a pill to make the aching feeling of emptiness after a hard day go away, but something had changed in the past few weeks. He wanted to, so bad, but what he didn't want was his mom to come home and find him high after going back to school for only one day. With the pill in one hand, he pulled his cellphone out with the other. 

_Sorry again about your first day. What are you up to. _

Harry found himself smiling down at the screen.

** _nothing good..._ **

_Would you maybe want to hangout? You could come to my house again._

This was the first time Louis had ever asked him to hangout. The first time Louis has ever asked him to come over, and he didn't have his car to get there. That was something he had yet to earn back from his mother. Harry found himself far too embarrassed to tell Louis that his only current method of transportation was his bike. The only place Harry wasn't embarrassed about biking to was Zayn's, because there probably wasn't a force on earth that could find a way to make Harry stop going to Zayn's.

_Actually it's really nice out. We could do something outside?_

That saved Harry from having to explain himself for a moment.

_ **like what?? ** _

_Idk, do you have a bike?_

Oh. Harry could work with that.

_ **infact i do. ** _

. . .

Thirty minutes later, Harry found himself at the intersection of Chestnut and Pine Street, exactly where Louis had said to meet him. He heard the clanking of the chains of Louis' bike before he saw him. He had been much too distracted by the thoughts racing through his mind about just how out of character this was for him, playing anxiously with the gears on his own bike. He was only pulled back to reality by Louis' bike pedals coming to a halt in front of him. 

"Hi." Louis was breathing slightly heavier than usual. 

"Hi." Harry said. 

Apparently Louis had decided to change after school, which only made sense due to the fact the chilliness of the morning was long gone now, and had been replaced with the unforgiving warmth of the sun. He wore a plain white tee shirt and black basketball shorts, white adidas sneakers with mid-calf socks to match. It was the first time Harry had seen him wearing something not so put together. Something about it made Harry feel much more at ease.

"Do you want to go on an adventure?"

"An adventure?"

"Yes Harry that's what I said. An adventure."

"Uh, what kind of adventure?"

"Follow me." Was the next thing Louis said, turning the wheels of his bike down the intersection which neither of them had come from.

Harry listened to Louis hum to himself as they biked next to one another for a while. The path they were on grew tighter and more worn in. Harry vaguely knew where they were but it had been a while since he himself had been here. He couldn't help but wonder how Louis knew where they were going, having not lived in this town very long at all. They came towards a slight incline, and both boys breathed heavily as they pushed their way up the hill. Once at the top, they stopped in their tracks for a moment to take in their surroundings. At the bottom of the hill began an orchard of apple trees as far as the eye could see, the only thing breaking it was the path that they were on, continuing down the middle of it. The land seemed as if it were rolling with more hills, and if you squinted you could see the end of the path, breaking off into two different directions. The sun was placed in the middle of the sky illuminating the whole thing perfectly. If Harry tried hard enough, he could almost pretend that the earth began where he stood on his bike, and ended on the other side of the orchard. 

"I love this place." Louis sighed. 

They continued on, now down the decline of the hill, directly towards the orchard. Louis was the first to discard his bike off to the side of the path. Harry watched him intently, as he walked up to one of the trees closest to the path. Louis used his delicate to hands to grasp the reddest apple he could find. He stood up on his toes, his torso becoming elongated. The white teeshirt he worn was pulled up slightly, revealing the soft tan skin of stomach, muscles flexing with his movement. He dusted the apple off on his chest, contemplated it a bit, before bringing it to his mouth to take a bite. The crunch it made was the only sound Harry could hear, and he watched even closer to see a few drops of the juice from the apple roll down Louis' chin. 

For the second time, Harry felt as if he and Louis were the only ones in existence. In that moment, Harry was Adam, Louis was Eve, they were in the garden of eden, and that was all there was.

Harry shook that thought away. Everyone knows what happened after Eve ate the apple. 

"Delicious," Louis smiled. "Have one. It is apple season." He exaggerated the word is, like everyone already should know it was apple season. 

Harry too reached into the tree, his limbs long enough where he didn't have to stand on his toes; unlike Louis. 

The skin of the apple broke easily under his teeth, and he hummed happily at the taste of it. "What made you want to come here?" Harry asked. 

"Well it's beautiful, don't you think?" Louis retorted back.

And yeah, if only Louis knew just how beautiful Harry thought the whole thing was. 

They walked together amongst the apple trees for a while, plucking them from the tree to eat them every so often. Harry told Louis a story about the last time he had been here. It had been a few years ago when he was 14. Him and Niall, along with a few other boys who he didn't talk to anymore had gone there and gotten drunk together for the first time after a Friday night football game. 

"You know, come to think of it, I think Liam had been there," Harry furrowed his brows for a moment. "We were never like, proper friends, but he and I did happen to be in the same place at the same time for a lot of my childhood." Harry could recall countless instances like that. 

"Well then, I suppose it's a miracle you didn't turn out like him yourself." Louis said, examining yet another apple in his hand.

The sun started to go down, and the two boys parted ways at the other end of the orchard, Harry going left, Louis going right. Harry stopped for a moment to watch as Louis went down the other path, going directly towards the direction of the sun. He didn't turn to look at Harry once.

As Harry made the quiet bike ride back home, he realized the orchard was placed directly in the middle of him and Louis' houses, if he remembered correctly.

. . .

Harry arrived home after the sunset. His mother offered to heat him up something for dinner, but he denied, as his stomach still felt filled up with the apples from early. 

He fell asleep easily that night, without even considering taking a pill to make it happen. 

. . .

To Harry's relief, it took less than twenty four hours for Louis to ask him to hangout again. 

The second day of school dragged by just as slowly as the first. Yet again the entire day went by without seeing Louis once, the only difference was this time Harry had been pretty much keeping an eye out for the boy everywhere he went.

Harry took the same route out of the building as he had the day before, (and if it was because he was hoping to run into Louis again he wouldn't tell) keeping mostly to himself as he made his way down the hall. Before long, he was again met with a hoard of excited teenage girls, the group almost seemed to be bigger this time. There was Louis, in the middle of it all. This time however, he was keeping to himself instead of conversing, his back leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He had an impatient look on his face, as if waiting for something. Harry secretly hoped it was him. 

If by some miracle, Harry's dream seemed to come true as soon as Louis' eyes landed on him. The impatient look was washed away and the boy bounded his way over to where Harry stood. 

"Hi again."

Louis' smile was infectious, and Harry found his own face pulling off what was probably the first one he'd shown all day. "Hi."

"Do you have anything to do today?"

Harry's brow furrowed for a moment. "Erm, I don't think so, why?" He knew he was technically supposed to go to another NA meeting, but he'd been skipping those since after the first one.

"Can I come over?"

Oh. Harry was totally not expecting that. He felt frozen for a moment, not prepared to answer that question. Louis took this as his cue to speak again.

"I know you go home with Niall but I can just bring you today." 

Harry blinked back down at him before stuttering, "I-- I, okay yeah." 

He was attempting to look as laid back as possible, which seemed to be a waste of energy, because Louis' back was already to him. He had run back to the group of girls to say goodbye, and while Harry watched him, he made eye contact with Sophia. She flashed a big grin at him, and Harry just didn't know what to make of any of it. 

. . .

"Harry sweetheart is that you?"

He had barely even made it in the door when his mother's voice rang through the kitchen. Before he could reply, she had found her way into the entryway to greet him. 

Harry suddenly felt tense at the presence of his mother and Louis in the same room. Louis inched closer to him, slightly intimidated by her presence. She eye'd the nervous boy up and down, a look of suspicion apparent on her face. It wasn't too surprising, after all, Harry hadn't brought home any one less than suspicious home in what had maybe been years. Anyone who she'd seen walk in with Harry, she had later found out they were either doing drugs together, or selling drugs to him. Or both. It was safe to say those were the kind of people she couldn't stand around her son, fresh out of rehab. "Who's this?" She raised an eyebrow slightly, leaning closer to Harry as she said it. 

"Mom, this is Louis, he just moved here." 

She gave Louis a once over, but before she could say anything he smiled and stepped forward, away from where he hid behind Harry, extending his hand towards her. "It's really good to meet you! Harry has been so amazing to me since I've moved here, helping me get around school and all of that."

She took his hand and it shook it, almost surprised. "My Harry? Helping you around_ school?_ Well that's news to me!" Her face relaxed with her words, dropping Louis' hand. "That is so wonderful Harry, I'm glad you're taking initiative this year!" 

Harry hadn't said anything, too lost in his own thoughts. Apparently _everyone _found Louis charming. Most people Harry brought home never shook his mother's hand. 

She spoke again. "Do you boys want anything to eat?" 

At this, Louis turned to make eye contact with Harry, waiting for him to respond. 

"I think we're alright? Louis is just gonna help me with some school work I think." He felt Louis' eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. 

"Just let me know. Thank you so much for helping him Louis, let me know if you boys need anything." She looked pleased as she made her way back to the kitchen.

As Louis followed Harry to his room, he whispered close to the back of his head, "Why did you lie about us doing homework, hm?" 

They arrived in his bedroom doorway and Harry turned to face him. He had to think about it for a second before he realized out loud, "I guess I'm just used to lying about why people come around here." 

Louis let the thought linger in the air, truly considering it. He nodded his chin slightly, to indicate he knew what Harry had meant, at least he thought. He took a few steps into Harry's room, now standing in the middle at the foot of the bed. 

Harry sat on the edge of the bed close to where Louis stood, the mattress dipping underneath him. He tugged at his sleeves as he watched him intently. Suddenly, Harry felt nervous about Louis being there. It wasn't the room exactly, just what was in it. Or, the lack of what was in it really. His desk stood in the corner, still empty as ever, no sign of live. There were the pictures hung above it, but it was obvious not a single one of them had been taken in the last few years, as they all showed a boy who _looked_ an awful lot like Harry, even though he didn't _feel _like the boy in those pictures. His bed was still unmade from when he woke up this morning. The AC unit above his bed had been removed and the window had been left open since, the blinds pulled all the way up letting the afternoon sunlight in. 

Louis stepped closer to Harry's desk, examining the pictures hung up. He stuck his hand out and brushed his fingers over the edge of one, a photo of a young Harry and Niall, on their old bikes. 

"Is this Niall?" Louis leaned closer, squinting, "You look so young! Your faces were both so... fat." Louis turned to look at him, a slight glint of humor in his eyes. 

"We had just learned how to bike without the training wheels in that one. Huge moment for us really." Harry elongated the word huge with his mouth. 

"Is that so." Louis' question was more rhetorical than anything. He moved to take a seat next to Harry on the bed, their thighs brushing together. 

Harry gulped. 

"My room is a bit plain," He wasn't sure why he felt the need to explain himself when Louis hadn't even asked in the first place. "It's just I don't have really any interests worthy of hanging on my walls. No awards to hang up and shit like that. Never felt the need to decorate." He was rubbing the toes of his shoes against the floor.

"Well at least you're not one of those guys who hangs naked pictures of women all over his room. That's just weird." Louis kicked his own shoes off onto the floor. 

Harry coughed lightly, trying to clear his throat of something that wasn't even there. "I grew up with just my mom and my sister so I always found it disrespectful when other guys did that I guess. Plus, I don't want a bunch of naked ladies staring at me while I sleep. Ew." 

"Ah, raised right I see," Louis prodded his rib with his finger. "I was raised by just my mom too. Several sisters, but I'm the only son she's got. It's kinda like, a little joke in my family, because I grew up around so many girls and now I'm gay." He shrugged in a way that told Harry saying those words out loud hadn't bothered him in the slightest. "They all kind of always knew anyway. My first obsession? Leonardo Dicaprio in Titanic. My sister always had it playing on DVD, so I blame her for it." With that, Louis fell back onto Harry's sheets, facing the ceiling.

"At least you have good taste. Young Leo was handsome, if I do say so myself." Harry was still sat up, so all Louis could see was his back.

"Yeah, he was like, my first love." Louis said. The room stayed silent till Louis spoke again. 

"Have you ever been in love?" His voice rang softer than usual, as innocent as ever.

Harry felt frozen, not expecting such a heavy question to come from such a light conversation. "No. I-I don't believe I have." His voice cracked only a little. It was quiet again, and he could hear a car door slam outside from his open window, and the sound of someones feet hitting the pavement as they jogged along the sidewalk. He found himself breaking the silence by asking, "Have you?" He suddenly felt stupid, but before he could smack himself in the face like he wanted, he was interrupted once more.

"I think I fall a little in love with everyone I meet." 

The words took the wind out of Harry and he found himself falling backwards onto the mattress, mirroring Louis' position, who was still starring at the ceiling, his mouth slightly agape. Harry took the opportunity to stare at him while he could. "Oh." Was the only word Harry found he was he able to say.

"I just think people are neat you know? Like, really cool." Louis hummed, his fingers moving by Harry's side, twisting the sheets with his fingers. That was all the explanation he gave.

Harry found it hard to look away from Louis, but he ultimately followed his gaze to where it landed on the ceiling. "You should be a psychologist then."

Louis sighed. "Maybe I should, yeah." 

Harry usually didn't like psychologists, hated how they tried to get in your head. He couldn't help but think if Louis was one though, he probably wouldn't mind it so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you made it here, I just want to thank you again. As always, feedback is much appreciated! come talk to me on my tumblr Twinkofficial :) Be on the lookout for chapter 4 ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, it's been a little over a week since I posted the last chapter, I hope ya'll didn't forget about me! If you're reading this, here is chapter 4. A Little more Louis, a little more Zayn. Let me know if there are any characters you particularly want to see more of. My tumblr is Twinkofficial :)

The first few weeks of September rolled by at an easy pace. Harry often found himself hanging around at Louis' in the afternoon or vice versa. He liked going to Louis', being able to sit on the bed and just watch Louis at his desk, do whatever it was that demanded his attention that day. To Harry's own surprise, he even found himself attending school everyday. The workload of the first few weeks had grown exponentially, and Harry may have lacked the drive to do it all, but the work he deemed important enough to do he would turn in, even if it was only because Louis had completed it for him. In August Harry had barely known Louis. By mid September, Louis was his best friend. 

Being Louis' best friend came with its ups and downs. He got to fill his time by being around the one person who made him feel things. The downside to that however, was when Louis was not around, Harry began to find feeling things slightly more difficult than it used to be. This Friday night was so exception. 

In this town, Friday night was mainly synonymous with one thing: Football. 

When you're Louis, and you're loud and beautiful and loved, your presence is unspokenly required at any and all school sporting events. Especially when half of your friends are on the schools cheer team. If that wasn't enough, this also happened to be the school's first home game of the year, meaning the majority population of the town would be there.

The majority of the town would be there, and Harry would be at home. 

It's not that he _couldn't _be there. In fact, all week the only thing Niall and his mother seemed to want to talk about was how he should _certainly _be at the game, as the team was on a winning streak which didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Even Louis had brought it up, going as far to beg Harry to come. And as much as the idea of standing with Louis in the stands made Harry's whole body heat up, he couldn't seem to find the will to go. He hadn't been to a game since his sophomore year, and even the ones he had attended he found no recollection of. While football games were a family event, it didn't mean all those teenagers would stand on the bleachers sober. Harry was most obviously not an exception. If he was going to get fucked up either way, he might as well do it in his own room, where no one's eyes would be on him. 

So on Friday night Harry found himself alone in his room. The door was shut and locked in an attempt at finding peaceful solitude. His window was open still, a cool draft of wind picking up his curtains every so often. The room was chilly, but instead of closing the window Harry had slipped on the softest pair of grey sweatpants he could find, and rolled woolen socks over his feet. His body was splayed out on top of the comforter as he laid on his stomach, arms at either side of his torso. His head sat heavy on a pillow with his face turned towards his nightstand where his digital clock sat. 7:03, the game had barely even started. He blinked heavily, and groaned when he opened his eyes to the clock reading the same time as it had before.

The silence in his room, in his house was suddenly deafening. His mother and sister had left, presumably to attend the football game without him. The only noise Harry could pick up on were the crickets chirping from right outside his window. He rolled onto his back exasperatedly, his curls sticking to his forehead. He could tell from his position that the sun had not completely set yet and the sky was left a deep shade of blue, but light enough for the streetlights to still be off. In just a few minutes, the sky outside would be completely dark. 

There was simply nothing to do. Every time Harry found himself with nothing to do, he'd get high. That was always the most appealing thing he could think of. 

He sat up and pushed the hair stuck to his forehead back, causing it to become frizzy under his fingers. His hands found their way under his mattress where they were met with the crinkly feeling of a plastic bag. He found himself examining the pills while still in the bag, rolling them around through the plastic. There was only two left. Harry didn't think as he opened the bag and dropped one on his tongue, swallowing it dry. A moth flew against the window screen as he rested his head against his pillow again. At least if he were to spend the next few hours alone, he wouldn't have to think.

. . .

Harry spent the next two hours, dazed and confused. He was decently high, enough to the point where it took him several moments to notice the noises coming from right outside his window. 

The bush of hydrangeas underneath the window rustled, which he would normally blame on the wind, but not when he heard the distinct noise of feet on the ground with it. All Harry could bring himself to do was stay as still as possible in order to hear the strange noises better. A quick three taps vibrated against the screen of the open window before he heard, 

"Harry?" 

He may have been high but he'd recognize that voice anywhere. He tried to sit up as fast as he could in the state of mind he was in, and he slurred back at the voice from outside, "Louis?"

"Ouch," The noise of a twig breaking filled the air, "Can you let me in?" 

Harry moved as fast as his sluggish limbs allowed. "Yeah, yeah of course." The pause between words felt longer than normal, and putting the sentence together with his mouth felt harder than it should have been.

Harry and Louis moved to push the screen upwards, and Louis hoisted himself through, landing with a soft thud onto Harry's pillows. Harry's vision was fuzzy, but he could still make out the details of Louis' face if he tried. His lips and tongue were stained red, most likely from the candy the school sold at the concession stands during the games. His cheeks were flushed from the chill of the night time, along with the tip of his nose. His eyes were glassier than usual, and his hair was windswept, swooped against his forehead with little pieces flying in different directions. 

Harry didn't realize he was holding his breath until he went to speak again. "What are you doing here?"

Louis sunk deeper into Harry's pillows, making himself comfortable. "I had Sophia drop me off here after the game. I really wish you went, I missed you the whole time," He stuck his toes towards Harry, his shoes still on. "Can you take these off for me?" 

It took Harry longer than it should have to process Louis' foot waving in front of his face, he was too focused on the words _I missed you_, coming out of Louis' mouth. Directed at him. That, and he was high. He moved to untie the left shoe. "Why didn't you just use the front door?"

"I thought it'd be more fun this way," He watched Harry slowly pick at his laces. "Are you high?"

Harry dropped the left shoe onto the ground. "Yeah." 

"Okay." Louis shoved his right foot into Harry's face. 

Harry grabbed him by the ankle and removed the remaining shoe. 

"Thanks." Louis rolled over to make room for the other boy at the top of the bed.

Harry stayed where he was though, finding his eyes still glued to Louis' face. He smelt slightly of stale vodka, although he wasn't drunk. The only other scent Harry could find on him was something so undeniably Louis though, unexplainable yet so comforting. He found himself inching closer as he watched Louis burrow under the duvet.

"Jesus it's freezing. By the way I'm sleeping here." His head landed on the pillow, facing where Harry had just situated himself.

"Okay." Harry's voice hitched as his head hit the pillow next to Louis', facing him. The next day was Saturday, which meant he had nothing to do, and even then Harry was sure his mother would be more than delighted to find Louis' presence the next morning. She loved having him around. She said he made Harry a better person. She was probably right.

He was trying as hard as he could to listen to Louis' recount of his day, but the cloudy part of his mind would only let him focus on so much at once. Right now, it was Louis' eyelashes. They were thick and long and dragged heavy and slow when he blinked. He attempted to hum along in harmony with Louis' story, at the parts where he paused, waiting for Harry to reply. 

"Okay, well, you're not listening and you're looking at me like you want to eat me, so I'm going to bed. Goodnight Harry." He rolled over to face the other way, his back up against Harry's ribs. 

All Harry felt he could do was nod his head, even though Louis now couldn't see him. Good thing too, as his face felt hot knowing Louis saw him staring. He positioned himself the other way as well, their backs close but not touching, heat radiating in the space between. This is their second sleepover, and most boys don't like to sleep in the same bed, or stare at each other like Harry just did, but Harry and Louis aren't most boys.

Harry's not sure how much time has gone by, but he's pretty sure Louis has been squirming around under the sheets for a while now. He let it go on for a bit longer just to be safe, before he decided to speak up. 

"Lou, are you okay?" Harry's brain still felt like it had been shaken up, and the nickname slipped out. 

He heard the rustling of fabric from Louis' side of the bed. He didn't say yes, and he didn't say no. All he said was, "Harry, what were you in rehab for?" 

Any thoughts Harry had been having previous to those words immediately disappeared, leaving his mind feeling like a blank slate. The only noise in the room was coming from both boys, anxious, heavy breathing. The longer Harry took to speak the more Louis seemed desperate to find comfort in the bed, rolling his limbs around anxiously. The only word that seemed to make any kind of sense in Harry's brain at the time was,

"Pills."

He felt Louis start to hug himself tightly beside him. As soon as the regret began to kick in, Louis found his voice. "Just pills?"

Harry seriously thought he was going to throw up, from the way his heart was beating and his throat seemed to be closing up. "Lot's of things, mostly pills though. Mostly pills." 

He had a million ideas racing through his mind of what was going to happen next, most of them consisting of Louis getting up and leaving. Maybe being so desperate to go he'd jump right out the window the way he'd came, even leaving his shoes behind. An ugly reminder that any happiness obtained was fleeting and would be gone the next morning, leaving you wanting more. Louis, was like a drug in that way. He was always left wanting more of Louis it seemed. So at that moment when Louis turned to face him completely and pulled him into a simple hug, a hug that left Louis' face in the crevice of Harry's neck, sending chills down his spine, a weight lifted off of his shoulders. It was a weight he really hadn't even known was there, but once it was gone he could see the difference it had made. Breathing, suddenly, had never felt so easy. 

Louis' voice began to tickle his neck. "I'm so sorry that's happened to you. I'm so sorry you went through that. I'm so sorry you thought you couldn't tell me." Louis' words jumbled together as if he didn't know which to say first, desperate to get them all out in the open. 

All Harry really wanted to do was hug him back. So that's what he did. To anyone else, it may have appeared too intimate to be just a hug between a friend trying to comfort a friend, with the way Louis was tucked so close to his side it was like he had no intentions of moving for a while, or the way Harry's hand found its way to the small of Louis' back and grasped his shirt, holding the fabric in a tight fist. But Harry had never had a friend this close, so he didn't question when Louis fell asleep still glued to him after a while. All he did was close his eyes himself.

. . . 

Harry felt, to some extent, that he owed Zayn a lot. The boy had done a lot for him, and even though they definitely had a less than positive impact on Harry's life at the end of the day, it was still the thought that counts. At least that's what he told Louis the next morning, when he asked Harry why he was still friends with _people like that_ with a sour face. Zayn, more than anything, was a person who had struggled just like Harry had, and Harry knew a lot of Zayn's internal struggles lately had been pretty much all due to him, and the conversation they shared at Liam's party. That's why, as he knocked on Zayn's door for his restock of more painkillers, he felt a tinge of guilt as he waited for the boy to answer. 

Zayn answered the door with a somewhat glum look on his face. From somewhere inside the apartment a speaker was playing some sort of R&B music that Harry faintly recognized, and as usual the whole place smelt sort of like weed, even though all the windows were pushed open. On the coffee table was an assortment of things, all of which had something to do with marijuana, and Harry recognized the bong which he and Zayn had used together before. Zayn sat down, propping his legs on the table casually, pulling a lighter seemingly out of thin air. He didn't even wait for Harry to sit down before he lit up the joint that had been waiting, tucked behind his ear. 

"ow've you been?" Harry questioned, dropping down next to him on the couch.

Zayn puffed his cheeks before exhaling the hot smoke. "Bit better than last time I saw you, I suppose," He handed Harry the joint. "I should be the one asking you though, how have you been feeling? Like, _actually_ feeling." 

Harry wasn't exactly used to people asking him about his feelings, and usually when they did he would just end up lying right through his teeth. Unless it was Louis. He never lied to Louis. He leaned forward and tapped the joint against a conveniently placed ashtray. "Been going to school and shit. Like actually going to school I mean, and I'm passing all my classes I think."

Zayn nudged him gently. "That's fucking sick Harry. Trust me, once you're out of there, shit will look up. High school sucks but you'll find your place, ya know?" 

They both chuckled lightly, and from somewhere the speaker started playing the beginning of a new song. Zayn spoke again. "So uh- you, have you been getting high lately?" 

Harry handed him the joint, and he had to laugh again. Technically, he was getting high right now, but he knew that wasn't what Zayn meant. "I mean, a little yeah. Don't worry about me though, it's more just for sleep than anything nowadays. Swear on it."

Zayn didn't exactly seem pleased, but he wasn't exactly upset either. He couldn't be really, or else he'd be a hypocrite to his own career. He had been making a living off of peoples addictions for years now, and he put up the tough, yet laid back exterior most drug dealers had. Underneath all of that, Harry could see just how desperately Zayn wanted out of the drug dealing empire he had built himself in this town.

Another heavy wave of guilt started to stir inside Harry, and he knew he had to make one thing clear. "I don't blame you, you know that right?"

It was quiet for a moment, besides the soft music. "Doesn't matter," Zayn sank into the couch a bit. "I still fed your addiction. Still feeding at least another hundred people's addictions in this fucking place," The look in his eyes was one that screamed defeat. "I'm going to Hell, Harry." 

Pity was not something Harry found himself feeling often, if ever. It was something he usually only saved for himself, not interested in much of anything or anyone enough to invoke pity for someone else. But if the gut-wrenching feeling the look on Zayn's face gave him meant anything, it must have meant he cared for Zayn. 

"I'm not addicted Zayn," Harry had to get that out of the way first. "All those other people? You didn't force them to buy the drugs or to take the drugs. They were gonna find them, gonna get their hands on them either way, it just happened to be from you. Don't you see that?" 

Zayn had taken his feet off the table and planted them on the floor, rubbing a shaky hand down his face. "Harry," He took a deep breath, "You went to rehab. You were fucking addicted, mentally, physically, in every way you were fucking addicted. I've seen you on pills Harry, and I've seen you go without them. I've met a hundred people just like you, who say they aren't fucking addicted, but as soon as their stash runs out you're banging on my fucking door. And every time any of you came back, I gave you more. Don't you dare even bother trying to convince me you weren't, or-- or that you aren't. Because you are, and half the reason is me." His voice had raised several pitches by the time he was done.

The pity Harry had felt only moments ago had turned into something else, something unfamiliar to Harry's admittedly minuscule repertoire of emotions. Zayn's admission of guilt had made him sad, and slightly guilty himself, but the sudden outburst created something else entirely. He found himself standing up, tripping slightly over his own feet. 

"I'm not an addict Zayn." His voice insisted. 

Anger was etched into Zayn's expression more than it was before. His face was red, and he relit the joint in his hand, as it went out sometime during the conversation. He put it to his lips as he said, "Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?" Something about the way he said it was simply dark.

And that, that was too much. The condescending tone he used, as if he'd never believe a thing Harry had to say, was what made him realize he felt no need to continue the conversation. His body was on auto pilot as he walked to the front door, almost kicking over the coffee table on the way out. He made sure to shout back into the room. "Talk to all your customers like that and you'll be fucking sure to lose them!" before he slammed the door behind him.

His whole body felt hot with rage, a stark contrast to the cool autumn air. As he mounted his bike to make the ride back home, he could only think of one thing.

How he hadn't gotten the thing he came over for in the first place; more pills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you enjoy! If you're desperate for more of my writing, you can check out the one shot I posted on here in the meantime while you wait for the next chapter. It's smutty! Any feedback would be super appreciated, and again, I want to thank anyone who is reading this story! AIMH.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! I am very sorry for my absence here, I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Please enjoy :)

Harry wasn't exactly sure how he found himself in this situation. One minute, he was walking into fourth period, only to notice an unfamiliar face standing at the front of the room. A substitute teacher. It was at that moment that he turned around on his heels and walked out of the classroom back into the concrete hallway of the building before they could notice him. He thought of it as an opportunity to relax, to ditch class without the repercussions of getting caught. His feet had led him directly to the courtyard which the school proudly boasted, clean kept gardens, a maintained lawn, and wooden picnic tables scattered around for students to sit at when the weather allowed. September was ending, and mother nature appeared to be confused, because there was no telling on any given day whether the temperature outside would be forgiving or not. It seemed as if today would be one of the last decent days for a while, although there was no knowing. It wasn't exactly warm - the sun seemed to be hiding behind the clouds today - but it was still pleasant enough. There was a constant gust of wind, which tickled Harry's skin when it brushed by him just right. He had been walking idly, scuffing his already dirty sneakers against the ground when Louis had called his name. 

Now here he was, sat across from Sophia at one side of the table, Louis practically in his lap on the other. Apparently it was both of their lunch hours, and it seemed the two friends had nothing better to do but to interrogate Harry on why he had such a solemn look on his face when they found him walking. They worked well as a team, pausing for the other to speak when it was needed, finishing the tail end of each others sentences as if it were preplanned. It was almost scary how they played off each other so well, and Harry had almost said that he in-fact _always_ looks solemn, if they hadn't noticed, but then he wouldn't get to watch Louis and Sophia play good cop/bad cop. Louis made a really adorable bad cop. You win some, you lose some.

"Harry," Louis was dragging out each syllable of his name, "Something is clearly wrong! Tell me. Tell me now." He was repeatedly kicking Harry's ankle under the table.

"Please. We want to help!" Sophia chimed in, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Harry looked back and forth between both of them for a few seconds, as if they shared a third head between them. "I just-" he paused as both Louis and Sophia's eyes lit up, thinking they were going to receive a confession, "I just don't get why you guys think something is wrong."

Louis kicked his ankle again. Sophia gave him an apologetic, although clearly amused look. Louis placed an index finger on each side of Harry's cheeks. "Because, Harry, you look like this," he pulled each side of Harry's lips downwards, in a theatrical frown, "When you should look like this!" He then tugged each side up dramatically, forcing Harry's face into a tight, fake smile.

Louis' face was so close to his now he could feel the boys warm breath on his face when he spoke. Despite the warmth radiating from Louis, the chill of the wind was starting to catch up with Harry. He sniffled slightly, as he felt his nose begin to get that classic, runny feeling one gets when they spend a little too long in the cold. 

"Oh my God look, he's even started to cry!" Sophia gasped and reached out, placing her hands on top of Louis', which were now resting on the table. They both let out airy laughs, and Harry felt like he was practically watching the two communicate via secret language. He wasn't jealous though. Obviously not. 

"Seriously Harry you've been like, sulking slightly more this week than usual. I know something is wrong." Louis took to running his hand down Harry's back comfortingly, and Harry adjusted awkwardly on the bench. 

That Saturday afternoon, after he had left Zayn's in his fit of rage, Harry found himself back at home, pacing up and down his driveway. To an onlooker, there was no doubt he looked insane, which was the only viable word he would have been able to come up with if asked to describe the way he was feeling in that moment. Zayn, his friend. Zayn, the _drug dealer. _Zayn, his friend and drug dealer, had called him an _addict._ The hypocrisy.The word addict to Harry was equivalent to the likes of the word _tainted_ or _broken_. The word coming out of Zayn's mouth directed at him, had stung more than he'd like to admit out loud. It was one thing to be called an addict by people who didn't understand the way he felt, by people whose only interests consisted of diagnosing Harry, as if that would explain why he was so fucked up. Anytime the word had been applied to him, he knew what the connotations that came with it meant. He always heard the hitch of breath, the pity in people's voices when they used the word as gently as possible, just like they did in rehab. But Zayn - Zayn hadn't even stuttered. He had liked to think Zayn knew him before, better than most people did. Now, Harry wasn't sure Zayn knew him at all. He wasn't an addict. 

Maybe before, it wouldn't have bothered him so much. Maybe before, he could've sat around and let Zayn throw the word around as much as he wanted. Harry, for as long as he could remember, had succumbed to the idea that - as dreadful and nefarious as it seemed - that drugs were his end all, be all. Oxycodone, would eventually take his life, most likely before it really even started, and he had accepted that. He had even grown fond of the idea, letting it comfort him in his darkest hours. Just because he supposed he would die because of drugs didn't mean he was an addict as far as he was concerned, it just meant he was self aware. A self aware, depression addled teen, who liked to mess with drugs and could easily stop whenever he wanted. At least that's what he had convinced himself. He felt that way for a long time, until somewhere along the way, Louis had become his best friend. Now, as much as Harry still planned on maintaining his relationship with drugs, there was another relationship he wished to maintain as well. So, maybe his dreams of dying at the hands of drugs were to be pushed back a little bit. If there was anything Harry was addicted to right now, it was Louis.

Louis, who was right in front of him, begging for an explanation. An explanation as to why he had been sulking. 

Harry seemed to observe the open air for another moment before choosing his words. "It's just... I got into a fight with Zayn on Saturday is all. It's not a big deal, really guys." The way the words left his mouth made it seem as if he was trying to convince himself more than anything. 

Sophia's eyes widened slightly. She knew enough about Harry to not question his friendship with the local drug dealer, but whenever he was in front of her like this, she seemed to forget who Harry was supposed to be seen as all together. She was able to push the whole drug addict thing aside and accept him as one her best friends friends. The two had grown increasingly more comfortable around each other the past few weeks, due to Louis of course. "Zayn Malik? When I was with Liam, I used to always have to sit and wait in the car while he went up to Zayn's apartment to get weed. Such great memories, right?" She pursed her plump, pink lips, sarcasm seeping through them. "What were you guys fighting about?"

Harry adjusted awkwardly again before taking a deep breath. "Doesn't really matter to be honest," It did. "I just... don't want to be on bad terms with him." It was true, if not for several reasons. 

"Aw, Harry!" Louis wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him in tightly by the waist, smushing their cheeks together. "You care about him! That is so sweet." His tone was teasing, but Harry knew the other boy was in fact serious, with the way he was attempting to crush Harry's ribs. 

He sank deeper into Louis' side. "I mean yeah. And he's my drug dealer. Can't really just drop him like that." He muttered into Louis' shoulder. 

Louis immediately broke the embrace, pushing Harry further away from him slightly. "You know that stuff kills you right?" His voice was just short of sounding angry. 

The sudden change in attitude and posture from Louis made Harry's heart thump with anxiety. He looked over to where Sophia was only half paying attention now, scrolling through her phone. Then he looked back to the boy next to him. "You say that like I'm meant to live forever." 

Louis' face began to twist with more emotion again. He's got a pile of books on the table, with tathered, worn pages, and a green ribbon dangling out the bottom of one. The books title reads _The Basketball Diaries__._ Harry thinks he's heard of it before. The boy lays his hand on top of the pile, fingers curling underneath the soft cover. He doesn't make eye contact when he says, "You could."

It's the first time Harry's ever seen him show a sign of nervousness. 

Just like that, the bell rings from somewhere in the distant in a case of perfect timing. The universe is cruel, but Harry feels crueler when he sees the look on Louis' face after the conversation they just had. It doesn't leave, when he gathers his books and stands up. Harry feels glued to his seat. 

"Well I've got a class to get to," He looks at Harry, and there seems to be a knot in between his eyebrows. "Soph?"

The girl stood up as well and made her way to the other side of the table, hitching her bag up her shoulder. She places a hand on Harry's shoulder lightly from behind. "I hope you can figure things out with Zayn. Fighting with friends sucks - but you've got us, so." She doesn't have to gesture for Harry to know she means Louis.

Without another word, they both disappear down the walkway that eventually leads into the school building.

. . . 

Harry's pretty sure that Niall has been talking for a while now, as they make their way through the tightly packed hallways of the building at the end of the day. He's certain now, when he notices the way Niall is looking at him, seemingly annoyed at his lack of responsiveness. Too bad for Niall, that Harry has other things on his mind. 

The words _you could_ had been ringing through Harry's head all afternoon like church bells, seemingly holy in a way Harry lacked the knowledge to understand. Every ounce of brain power he could muster had been put towards figuring out exactly what those words had meant. It was confusing, how little sense they actually made in reality; but the way Louis had said them, with such depth, the way he was able to make two simple words resonate so well in his brain - Harry was sure they meant _something. _He just had to figure out what.

It's at that moment, he catches what seems to be the back of Louis' head at the other end of the hallway. Niall is still talking, but Harry can't help but pat him on the shoulder harshly in place of a goodbye before practically bolting down the hall, away from a now stunned Niall, between the throngs of all the lingering students. He was desperate to catch Louis, to ask what had been on his mind since fourth period. He feels like he might just fall to his knees in front of the boy and beg for the meaning.

"Louis!" He's in front of him now.

"Harry?" Louis is startled, slightly taken back at how the boy seemed to appear out of nowhere. He looks Harry up and down inquisitively, and if he didn't know him like he did, he'd think Louis was almost bored, with the way his eyes bore into him. 

"What did you mean?" 

Louis stopped in his tracks, cutting off the flow of students pacing down the hall. Some rolled their eyes and maneuvered around him, some just bumped right into him. He didn't seem to care at all, just keeping his gaze locked onto Harry. "What do you mean what did I mean?" He blinked innocently.

"Earlier, when you said I could," Harry wanted to yell in exasperation. "I could what? I don't get it."

Louis' eyes seemed to flood with clarity. "Oh," he didn't break his gaze away from Harry for even a second. "I just meant like, you talk about life like it sucks. It doesn't have to suck. You could make it worth living, if you wanted." He shrugged.

The hallway was emptier than it was a moment ago, the noisy footsteps of their peers fading away. The meaning of Louis' words had just about knocked the wind out of Harry. It wasn't exactly something he'd never heard before, but the way they left Louis mouth with ease made Harry feel as if his heart had dropped several inches into his stomach. He's crowds closer to Louis, who is now looking up at him, and stutters out a breathy, "What?"

Louis reaches out to pat Harry's arm, which leaves his skin tingling. "All I'm saying is I care about you Harry. I want you to be happy," he seems to think for a moment before he adds, "It'd make me happy." 

The words make Harry feel warm, as most things Louis says seem to do. "Might be asking a lot, Lou." He shoots for seriousness in his tone, but the grin on his face might be giving him away. 

Louis rolls his eyes and turns the other way to start walking, and Harry begins to follow immediately. The warm feeling never leaves him, because now as they walk, their knuckles are brushing together, and Harry feels something he can't explain, and neither boy moves to pull their hands away. Both boys remain quiet, until they get to the end of the hallway.

"Mark my words, H, I will make it happen."

Before Harry can even think of a decent reply, Louis has left his side, leaving it cold, and has made his way to the exit. "I'll see you later!" is all he says before he's disappeared out the door, away from Harry's line of sight. 

And, Harry thinks he just might be able to get behind the idea of being happy if Louis plans on being the one to make it happen. 

. . . 

"You're in love with Louis."

Niall barely avoids the slap sent his way. "What are you talking about?" Harry can't help the way his voice gets higher towards the end of his sentence.

"There's no way you are not in love with Louis." His hands are in front of his face to avoid another impending slap, but it doesn't come. 

Harry has instead decided to sit on the edge of Niall's bed. He's looking around, everywhere but Niall's face, trying to take in the words, but he just can't process them. "Why on earth would you say that?" He considers only for a moment, hiding under the mound of blankets on Niall's bed, only if it will shield him of the boys response.

Niall drops his bag by his bed and kicks off his shoes. Harry thinks he must be trying to kill him, by taking what seems to be all the time in the world, before he finally sighs. "I was in the middle of a story earlier, and you just like, bolted when you saw him. You literally ran to him. Who on earth gets _that_ excited to see someone they aren't in love with?" 

At that, Harry falls back onto the bed with a groan. So, maybe what he'd done had been dramatic, but it was obviously only because he needed Louis to answer his question immediately so he could stop mulling over it in his head. Obviously. "I needed to ask him something, you wouldn't get it. Sorry I did that though, was kinda rude." He hopes Niall doesn't see the way he's rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Was kinda rude? Tell me about it!" He fakes exasperation as he starts digging through his backpack. "No matter though. You're in love with Louis."

He narrowly avoids the pillow flung at his face.

"Jeez! I don't _care _if you're gay Harry! Just admit you're in love with Louis!"

At, that Harry sits up immediately.

The way Niall had said it made it sound like he couldn't give less of a shit, and that was, well - interesting. Did Niall genuinely think he was in love with Louis? 

"Why do you think I'm in love with Louis?"

Niall looks up from where he's now sat at his desk, a puzzled look displayed on his face. "You just- seem different lately s'all. Not bad different, just less miserable different. It's a good thing. The only thing I can think of that's changed is you now spend a fuck ton of time with the kid. So." He looks back down to the desk. 

Suddenly, Harry is feeling many things he can't exactly pinpoint the origin of. The topic at hand was serious in a sense, yet the way Niall was approaching it made Harry feel they were talking about something as lackluster as the weather. Love, one would think, is not necessarily _synonymous _with the term lackluster. His feelings for Louis were confusing and sporadic, and he never exactly took the time to consider what that meant, but if he had, he's pretty sure _love _would not have been something to come to mind. But - then again, how would he really know?

Harry - like most teenage boys, had mastered the art of separating things like _sex _and _attraction _from _love_, whatever that was. He'd had his flings, had his hookups, and as fun as those were, they didn't exactly hold much weight or importance in Harry's life. He had never _loved _any of those people, that he was certain. He had always felt from a young age that there just seemed to be more important things to deal with, better things to consume his time and thoughts with than the notion of _love_, or the task of finding a girlfriend, like everyone seemed to want him to do. Through all of that, there was never exactly a time where Harry once found himself searching for a label on his sexuality, as it seemed to reign even less important - if that were possible - than the idea of finding himself an intimate relationship. So, any questions of sexual orientation had pretty much been sitting on the back burner until now. It's not like he'd been _completely_ oblivious to other boys - he'd had his fair share of run ins with boys and girls alike. Harry found himself able to shrug off Niall's comment about being gay fairly easy. After all, it's not like Niall gave a shit, and if Harry were to try and care, well that seemed to be too much effort spent on something that really didn't matter. Maybe Harry was gay, or maybe he wasn't. He could deal with that. What seemed to be giving him a hard time, was the _love_ part of the situation. Was he in love with Louis?

Harry had probably spent less time thinking about love than he had spent paying attention in calculus that morning; close to none. Now that Niall was waving the idea in front of his face that he himself could be in love - with his best friend no less- what was he supposed to think. Or rather, how was he supposed to know?

Louis. Harry's best friend, who sometimes felt more like a muse - or an obsession - than anything. Harry knew that the moment Louis came into his life was also just around the time he started experiencing emotions at a normal human level, if not _more _profoundly. Louis was different in a way that he couldn't explain, so he figured his fascination was slightly justified. Louis as a person with his brashness and forwardness was one thing; his outer beauty an entire other. It wasn't like Harry didn't know Louis was beautiful; he'd noticed it the first night they spent together, high as a kite tucked under the boys sheets. As they had grown closer, Louis only began to stand out as more stunning. Harry had once thought in passing of Louis to be _the one dandelion in a vast expanse of green pastures._ And okay, maybe it was a bit dramatic, and maybe he had flushed in embarrassment as the thought crossed his mind, but no matter. It seemed to be the best analogy for what Louis was for him. The one person, out of everyone Harry knew, who stood out. Stood out in a way that made you stop and stare to admire it's mere existence. The one pop of color in what seemed to be a long monochromatic journey through life. Louis was the only person to evoke such strong emotions from Harry, but still - was that emotion _love?_

He really had no background evidence or prior knowledge to know. 

Niall was scribbling ferociously at the notebook on his desk when Harry spoke up again. 

"Wait - maybe you're right."

Niall looked up, a dumbfounded look over his face. He peered at Harry suspiciously, giving him what seemed to be time to break character, as if he thought Harry was joking. When he came to the conclusion that Harry was in fact serious he said "What the fuck do you mean maybe I'm right?"

He stood up from his seat on Niall's bed, his feet hitting the floor so heavy the room seemed to vibrate and began to pace the room. The thought that he maybe was in love with Louis was overwhelming to say the least, and the pumping of nerves and adrenaline it seemed to cause needed their release. "What if I actually am in love with Louis? Like, how would I even know that?" 

The thing is - Harry had always been slightly confused with his feelings towards Louis. They had been foreign from the start, and of course he had questioned it, but he had never chalked any of it up to love. The concept of it all seemed more and more fitting the more he mulled over it in his head. Which was nothing less than terrifying. 

Slightly lost and almost concerned, Niall began giving Harry an intense once over as the boy paced his room. "I don't know, I think you're just like supposed to know? Are you okay? Are you high?"

At that, Harry almost lost it. He strode over to where Niall sat on his long, nervous legs and shook him by the shoulders. "No I'm not fucking high but I wish I was!" He shook the boy hard again. "Why didn't I fucking think of this?" 

Before Niall could come up with a reply, Harry had went from shaking Niall to lying on the floor, throwing his arms around in irritation, once again keeping his eyes trained on the ceiling. Niall leaned over out of his chair to peer down at him. "Um. I've never seen you be this dramatic before."

Harry kind of really wanted to kick something. He also kind of really wanted to scream. After deciding neither of those things were very appropriate, he decided on pinching Niall's shin, which was resting on the floor right near his face. "Well I've never thought I might be in love with someone before have I Niall?"

"Ouch!" He slapped Harry's hand away. "Why is it such a big deal?"

Harry bolted upright to face Niall, who jumped back in surprise. "Why is it such a big deal?!" He repeated mockingly. 

And, well. Touché Niall. 

Why exactly would it be a big deal if he _was_ in love with Louis? He couldn't necessarily pinpoint an exact reason but he just _knew_. The same way one knows they are not supposed to wear white to a wedding, Harry knew. It was one thing, to not know what love feels like at 17 years old. For the record, most people don't. It was another, for a 17 year old to be incapable of understanding or explaining emotions like Harry knew he himself was. Years of suppressing emotions and hiding behind the mask of addiction left Harry with little knowledge of what exactly he was supposed to do next, if, say, he was in love with Louis. 

"I just... don't know how to approach this." He laid back down on the floor again. 

And maybe Niall had begun to finally feel sorry for him and his whirlwind of emotions, because he sat back in his own chair and sighed. "Just think about it I guess. S'all you can do isn't it?"

. . .

It turns out, thinking about emotions and their meanings was something Harry had really been missing out on. 

Previously in this life, when something as scary as the prospect of love was on the horizon for Harry, he did everything he could to avoid thinking about. For example, he'd take enough pills till he passed out for twenty hours, and by the time he'd wake up, he'd usually forgotten whatever it was that had been bothering him.

So that day when he got home from Niall's, he had dug through his mothers handbag when she left the room and dumped a few xanax into his hands before disappearing into his room for the rest of the evening. He was dry of his usual oxy, due to his fight with Zayn, and all he had to do was pray his mother didn't notice the absence of the pills from her bag, which she probably wouldn't. She didn't like taking them herself anyway. 

However, when he woke up the next morning from his blacked out state to the immediate thought of _what if I'm in love with Louis_ he wanted to scream into his pillow. There was no avoiding this one.

. . . 

Avoiding feelings was something Harry could consider himself an expert at. 

Except when it came to Louis. 

That morning at school Harry found himself tripping over his words and his thoughts more than usual, half due to the xanax come down, half due to the butterflies in his stomach. He'd been feeling them since the second he woke up, and try as he might, they just would not go away. Even talking to Niall couldn't ease his nerves, their conversation from the day before appearing at the forefront of his mind every time they so much as made eye contact. The sluggish pace of the students walking in front of him only seemed to prolong his suffering as he arrived at the mutually agreed upon meeting place between him and Louis. The place he met him every morning, so they could walk each other to class. 

They hadn't spoken since Harry had his revelation, which Louis must have found unusual if his texts from the night before were any form of indication. Harry really would have replied if it weren't for the fact he was drugged out of his mind and had no idea how to function properly at the sight of Louis' name in his phone. Acting casual around Louis was not necessarily something Harry was ever an expert at in the first place, as the boy had always caused stir of emotions in his body and mind. Now, he wasn't sure how he'd be able to hold himself together at all. 

Lost in thought, entranced by the sight of water spewing out of a drinking fountain across the hall, Harry didn't see Louis until he was standing right in front of him.

"Why were you ignoring me last night?" 

Fuck. Harry's voice seemed to drop everything to the ground and run for the hills at that moment, because when he went to try and find it, nothing came out. His cheeks felt like they were on fire and the ability to breathe normal also seemed to disappear all in a matter of seconds. In all, this whole acting casual thing was not off to a good start. Louis' glare grew increasingly more piercing and as much as Harry wished he could stand and just stare at Louis and not do anything else for the rest of the day, or at least until he figured out his feelings, he was pretty sure that was not an option. 

"Um." He wondered if punching himself in the face would be appropriate as soon as the sound left his lips. 

"Are you mad at me?" 

The way Louis' face fell made Harry begin to reconsider punching himself. 

"I hope you didn't take what I said yesterday the wrong way all I was saying is I want you to be happy I wasn't, like, insulting you-"

"No! No, I'm not mad at you at all! I just was spending time with my family and I fell asleep super early after. I didn't do it on purpose. I'm sorry." Watching Louis struggle to come up with his own explanation of Harry's absence had been difficult, but choking those words out himself had felt nearly impossible.

Louis' own face flashed with several emotions, all quick and confusing, before he landed on something akin to slight disappointment. The air between them was tense for a few seconds, the silence more striking and obvious then it should have been in a hallway crowded with other people, all until Louis pulled him in for a hug. 

For a brief second Harry thought to himself there was a rather large possibility he was going to explode in that moment, every single sense being filled and overpowered by Louis. The hug was nothing more than friendly, and it was over in seconds, but the feeling it left Harry with was all he needed to know. 

He had feelings for Louis. 

Love, he wasn't sure, not sure how he'd ever figure that out. Infatuated, however, could maybe be used to describe the way he was feeling. 

Louis' tight grip on his arm pulled him out of his thoughts as the boy began to practically drag him down the hallway. "Good. You're not allowed to be mad at me you know." 

Harry just nodded in dazed agreement, and soon enough, Louis seemed to decide that holding onto to Harry's arm just wasn't enough and he chose to instead wrap an unsteady arm over his shoulder. It was a weird angle, due to Harry standing broader and taller, but he refused to give up, rehooking his arm over Harry with every few steps. He felt like his body had gone on auto pilot as soon as Louis began to touch him.

And - Louis was clingy; had been from the start, always finding a way to touch Harry. Louis also somehow always seemed to find a way too mention that Harry was his best friend ever in the whole world and that he loved him _so so so_ much. Harry knew he should love this side of Louis, this soft side which only seemed to be reserved for him. But something about it made every bone in his body ache. The way Louis was always touching him, as if it would physically pain him not to, made Harry want to shrivel up in a corner and die. Made him want to dig his own grave, and lay himself in it too. But the other part of him, the part that couldn't seem to regulate any sort of emotion, told Harry that the way Louis touched him was the only reason he had to keep on living. So he let Louis cling to him, let him brush their hipbones together as they walked each other to class, let Louis kick his feet up on his lap when they (more like he) did homework. He let Louis share his comforter and rest his head on his shoulder when they slept in the same bed together, which happened almost every weekend, and on those school nights when Louis would sneak in his window and tell Harry all the small details about his day. He let Louis tug on his stray hairs and poke at his cheeks to make him smile. He let Louis touch him, and somehow, every time he did, Harry felt like he was the highest he'd ever been. Louis, In a way, felt better than any drug he'd ever done. 

As they walked to class tangled in each others arms, Harry realized that yes, he was _infatuated_. And no, he had no fucking clue what to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it! much more for the 2 boys to come, I just want to build it up slowly, for it to all play out. Regardless, at least Harry has acknowledged his feelings right? Come talk to me on tumblr at twinkofficial! oh, and I would love some feedback, it always makes my day :,)

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it all the way here I would absolutely love some feedback! Feel free to comment here or message me on my tumblr :)  
ALSO please let me know if you spot any grammatical errors!


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